Forgiveness
by beaujolais
Summary: A phone call brings an old friend to Vegas and back into Jim Brass' life. Takes place after ABRTI. Brass/Annie Kramer.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This fic has been kicking around for about three years now and it's definitely been a labor of something alternating between love and hate. Okay, it's Brass and Annie so it really was love but it did test my patience a few times. I always wanted to write a sequel to "Open Ends" and ABRTI gave me the best reason to hook up Jim and Annie Kramer once again. So, yes, this follows "Open Ends". It will definitely help to read that fic but it's not completely necessary. And just so you know, it's rated M for a reason.

I could not have done this without the help of Tos_Lover. She pushed me and challenged me and made me a better writer. I owe everything to her except any errors you might find. Those are all mine. Unfortunately, Jim Brass and the rest of the CSI characters aren't mine. If they were, Brass would have gotten more than a brush off line after shooting Bell.

This one is for my friend currently stationed in Iraq. She needs a little Brass to help her countdown the seconds.

* * *

**Saturday evening, November 19****th****, Fourteen Days after the shooting**

Jim Brass sat alone in the dark room, staring hard at the half empty bottle of scotch through blurry eyes and having a raging argument with his inner demons about what to do next. Already he'd drained three glasses, the burn still fresh in his belly. Finish the glass he'd just poured and he'd pass out on the sofa, much like he had the last three nights.

He couldn't hold his liquor like he did in the old days, when he'd regularly use alcohol to escape a bad marriage and the stress that came with being a cop.

A knock at the door interrupted the fourth glass from reaching his lips. Brass didn't bother looking out the window. He didn't care who was at the door. There wasn't much he cared about. Not since Gil Grissom had given him the news.

_You must have stood up_.

Five insignificant words had banded together and knocked the breath out of Brass. He tried not to let it show, to suck it up and take the news like a man. That's what he'd done before. But this time it was different. He wasn't a rookie cop. He was a veteran. He was better than this. At least he had been.

The knock was persistent, drumming an erratic rhythm into his scotch-soaked brain, and as he stared at the door, he knew whoever it was wasn't going away. Putting a hand out to balance himself, he got up slowly and grimaced as he felt the effects of alcohol on an empty stomach.

Another knock and Brass was grumbling out loud as he ambled across the room. Opening the door with a growl, squinting at the intruder standing on his porch, it took a long moment before irritation gave way to recognition.

**oooooo**

Standing on the front porch, staring at a closed door, Annie Kramer wondered what the hell she was doing here. He hadn't asked her to come. No, she had made the long drive across the desert because of a rather cryptic message and several unanswered phone calls. To say she was worried was an understatement.

She knew he was home. His car was in the driveway and she could hear the shuffling of feet on the other side of the door. She wasn't going to leave until she knew he was okay and if that meant calling 911 to bust the door down, that's what she'd do.

Hearing the click of a lock, Annie had no idea what to expect when the door opened and for a moment, she wondered if he'd even be alone. Despite the promise of rekindling something they'd long left behind, they hadn't talked much in the last seven months; maybe he was seeing someone and wouldn't welcome her unannounced arrival on his doorstep. _Oh, well_, she thought. Jimmy was an old friend. No one said she couldn't stop by to say hello to an old friend. If nothing else, she'd never been to Vegas before; she was sure she could find a way to spend the few days she had off.

The door slowly opened and a very scruffy Jim Brass squinted into the light.

"Yeah?"

She moved into his line of sight. "Jimmy?"

It was apparent by the look on his face that she was the last person he expected to see.

She stood in front of him for several beats, quickly taking in the bloodshot eyes, unshaven face, mussed hair and unkempt clothes before finally saying, "The polite thing to do would be to invite me in."

He stepped away from the entrance, holding the door open and allowing her to pass.

"You look like hell," she said casually, her sarcasm hiding her relief that he was at least in one piece.

"Nice to see you too," he replied, leaning on the door until it closed then staying there, as if he hadn't the energy to move.

This wasn't the Jimmy Brass who'd come to L.A., who spent the night in her bed. Something was wrong; something that went beyond Ellie and her crackwhore lifestyle.

He waved her off with his hand. "What are you doing here? You been checking up on me?"

Annie wasn't fazed by the irritation in his voice. "I'm Vice, Jimmy," she said with a penetrating stare, "I've got friends in low places."

He looked away, ashamed of himself for letting her see him like this.

She took a step closer and put her hand on his arm. "I got a phone call."

Jim didn't have to think hard to know who called her. Only one person in Las Vegas even knew about Annie. "He tell you what happened?"

She shook her head. "No, I guess he left that up to you. You gonna tell me to leave?" Glancing around the house, seeing the half empty bottle of Scotch on the table lined up with its depleted partner, she said, "You looking for answers again?"

He scowled at her but didn't answer. He didn't have to. Even without the evidence, the heavy tang of alcohol hit her the minute she walked in the door.

Annie Kramer was well acquainted with a drunken Jimmy Brass. Sure, he could be a charmer when he'd had a few, able to weasel his way into her good graces on more than a few occasions but every now and again, drinking dredged up the darker side of Brass, the side he kept rightfully buried away. She'd seen that side of him once too often.

"Come on, you need to sleep this off."

He pulled away, shaking his head as he leaned against the wall for support. "No," he protested, "I don't sleep any more."

"So you just drink until you pass out? That's not a solution, Jimmy."

His eyes narrowed. "It's worked so far."

"How long have you been on this little bender?"

He shrugged slowly, his movements encumbered by the alcohol. "What does it matter?"

"It matters because I care about you and because we've been down this path before."

"You gonna save me from myself again?" He took a step away from the wall and practically fell onto her.

Putting out a steadying hand, she said, "I'm going to try."

"I never asked for your help."

Annie pushed him back against the wall, holding him there with one hand firmly set in the center of his chest.

"You're right, you never did. Not now and not twenty years ago. But tell me, how many times did I get phone calls from you, drunk off your ass and needing a ride home? How many times, Jimmy? Too many to count! I drove out of my jurisdiction, risked my job, just to find you at some pisshole bar."

Brass was quiet. Running his tongue over his lower lip, he listened to everything she said without protest.

"I'd never kick you out of my bed and you knew it." After all these years, she still felt bitter sadness, not for Jim but for herself and her naive idea that someday he'd leave his wife and marry her. "I'd pick you up and take you to my house. If you weren't too drunk, you'd make it to the bedroom and pass out on the bed, then wake up a couple hours later, ready to go. And I always gave it to you."

"You make it sound so romantic."

"I loved you, Jimmy. I knew it was your wife and the job. I knew how you'd let the death of some poor kid get to you and you'd internalize it until the only way you could get it out of your system was to try to drink it away."

"Look, I'm not drinking again," he dragged his hand slowly over his mouth, "not like that."

"It starts this way and you know it." She lowered her hand.

Brass relaxed against the wall. "I just needed something to take the edge off the last couple of days."

Annie reached out, her hands cupping his face, feeling the scruff of his beard against her palms. "What were my last words to you? Remember? I said be careful."

"I thought I _was_ careful."

Letting her hands fall to his shoulders, she asked, "So what happened?"

Seeing the tears well up in his bloodshot eyes, seeing his head bow until his chin touched his chest, she felt a lump form in her throat. This was something much worse than she ever thought. And now she regretted everything she had said to him.

"Why do good cops die while one lousy cop lives?"

"One lousy cop?"

Jim raised his head and looked up at her, his somber expression answering her question.

Her hand went to his cheek. "You're not a lousy cop."

"I killed him. I killed that kid. It was my bullet that took his life; my bullet that left his wife a widow with three kids to raise on her own and a baby who'll never know her father. I did that. How can I live with myself after that? You explain it to me because I sure as hell don't know!"

"What kid? A suspect?" _Why do good cops die?_ It suddenly clicked. "Jimmy, did you shoot a cop?"

"I stood up. I didn't think I did but the evidence says otherwise. It was my bullet. I shot and killed a cop."

Wrapping her arms around him, she felt him lean into her, felt the deep sobs wrack his body. Annie stayed with him for several more minutes before finally taking a firm hold of his arm and half leading, half dragging him down the hallway and into the master bedroom. By the time she got him onto the unmade bed, he was nearly dead-weight. Lifting his legs onto the mattress, Annie finally got him situated so that he wouldn't fall off the bed if he rolled over. Pulling the comforter over him, her hand brushed his hair.

He was asleep now, at peace with the demons that had driven him to this point. Unfortunately, she knew that what he was trying to escape would still be waiting for him when he woke up.

Tucking her long hair behind her ear, Annie gave Jim one last, long look before wandering down the hall to the spare bedroom. The room was light and feminine and had obviously been set aside for Ellie but judging by the newness of the bedspread and the stiff pillows, Annie doubted that the girl had ever actually stayed there. And for a moment, Annie felt a sharp pang of sadness for Jim. He loved his daughter, hell, he'd nearly lost his job trying to help her and yet, she'd done everything she could to break his heart.

Sitting on the edge of the bed then leaning back and feeling the bounce of the mattress, she stared at the ceiling and wondered just what _she_ was doing here.

It was the phone call, a relay from that Vegas CSI to Matt Glazer. Two short and worrying sentences: _Jim Brass is in trouble. He needs you_. She didn't have time to ask what kind of trouble but knowing that he needed her was enough to bring her to Vegas.

Now she couldn't help but think about what might have happened. What horrible event caused Jimmy Brass to shoot another officer and drive him down a path she thought he'd left years ago?

_Years ago…_

Annie had spent most of the drive over thinking about the past and Jimmy Brass. Truth be told, she hadn't been able to get him out of her head since he left her house back in April and had spent a lot of time trying to remember the details.

Annie couldn't remember the exact date she'd first met Jimmy Brass but she knew it was shortly after her transfer from North Bergen to Newark so it was definitely January, 1987. She and some of the guys had headed over to Tank's after shift ended to shoot pool and drink beer and Jimmy was already there, running the table like Minnesota Fats. Her first impression was that he was a cocky bastard but she'd always been attracted to cocky bastards, especially the ones who filled out a pair of faded blue jeans so nicely. She knew he was more focused on her ass than the game and for a moment she'd nearly taken a c-note from him but he'd stroked the 8-ball into the side pocket with such finesse that she could still remember the tingle that went up her spine.

Annie made it a point to stop at Tank's after that night, always finding Jimmy inside, shooting pool most of the time but occasionally sitting alone at a corner table, quietly pounding back boilermakers. That's when she knew being a cocky bastard was just a front, a way to hide behind the hard-ass cop reputation and not let anyone else see what was really going on. But Annie saw. She'd also heard the stories from the guys at the precinct: wife whored around, screwed every man not named Jimmy Brass. Annie felt for the guy.

She knew that was the catalyst, the reason why she felt the need to be a friend. Of course he didn't see it the same way, not at first anyway, not until she found a common denominator. She'd seen the New Jersey Devils sticker on the inside of his locker and got his attention when she'd mentioned she'd grown up a Devils fan. A little while later he'd gotten hockey tickets and after the game, when he'd given her a ride home and walked her to the front door, she'd invited him up to her second floor apartment and he didn't say no.

Annie knew he was married; she knew what she wanted to happen was wrong in the eyes of God but she also knew Jimmy was already in an unfaithful marriage. That didn't make it right but in Annie's mind it made it easier when he kissed her on the sofa. Nothing else had ever compared to the raw heat of that first time. They'd fucked, pure and simple. No time for foreplay or tender kisses, just an urgent, primal desire that left clothes strewn all over her tiny living room and a wet spot in the middle of one sofa cushion.

Sex was a release for both of them, sometimes more emotional than physical but always satisfying. Unfortunately, she couldn't say the same about their three year affair. Jimmy started drinking more, started playing fast and loose with the job until one hot August night he and his partner had a call-out to an old warehouse and Jimmy got knifed while busting up a drug deal.

Nearly losing his life had quickly sobered him up but it also signaled the beginning of the end of their affair. Annie had gone to see him in the hospital and nearly ran into Nancy Brass on the way out. A month later, Jimmy had gone home one morning to find all of his personal belongings on the front lawn. Turnabout wasn't in Nancy's vocabulary and she wanted every bit of Jimmy's hide and a piece of Annie's as well.

It was Annie who took the initiative and ended their affair, not because she feared the gossip that would spread all over the Newark PD. Hell, she couldn't name a detective in her precinct that wasn't having or hadn't had an affair. But Annie needed to leave before all the sordid details surfaced; before Nancy got even more ammunition than she already had. So she made rumblings about being tired of the corruption and the discrimination and put in for a transfer. She needed to be as far away from Jimmy Brass and New Jersey as possible and what better place to start over than Los Angeles?

**oooooo**

Waking with a start at what she thought was a loud bang, Annie wasn't sure when she'd fallen asleep. It took her a moment to familiarize herself with the surroundings and then she was off the bed and down the hall towards Jimmy's room. She wasn't sure if the noise was real or imagined and after she found him still passed out in the middle of the bed, she settled on imagined. Nevertheless, she did something she should have done earlier: confirmed he wasn't the sort of cop who slept with a weapon next to the bed. She'd seen one too many trauma induced accidental shootings involving a cop, a gun, a spouse, and nightmares. She'd felt sure that Jimmy wasn't the type to keep a loaded gun by the bed but she sure as hell wasn't going to be a statistic in case she'd misjudged him.

Feeling more awake at three in the morning than she should have, Annie went back down the hall to the kitchen and the bottle she'd tucked away under the sink. It was an excellent single malt whisky and would have been sacrilege to throw it out. Pouring out a small measure then swirling the liquid around in the glass before taking her first sip and feeling the pleasant burn down her throat, she remembered that it was Jimmy who taught her to appreciate good Scotch whisky. She'd been a hardcore rum and coke girl but it wasn't long before he was schooling her in the ways of single malt.

With glass in hand, Annie wandered into the study just off the living room. The large cherry desk and bookcases filled with the requisite law enforcement books as well as several books on world and military history took up most of the space. But what she found most interesting were the framed photos scattered along the shelves. Many were of Ellie as a blonde-haired, pig-tailed little girl; a few more were of Ellie and Jimmy. Another picture, one without a frame, propped up against a New Jersey Penal Code book, and with edges that had curled over time, surprised her. Reaching for the picture, Annie smiled at the young woman looking back at her. Judging by her skin tight jeans and big hair, she guessed the picture was from '87, when she'd been working undercover with vice. Standing next to her, with his arm around her waist and hamming it up for the camera, was Jimmy Brass. She'd forgotten how blond he was in his younger days and that age had darkened and thinned his hair, while Ellie and the pressures of the job had added the silver edges. Looking at Jimmy's smooth features, she had to admit that she'd liked the way he'd aged. He'd lost the baby-face and gained a weathered toughness that definitely suited him.

Putting the picture back in its place, she noticed the dress uniform jacket, hat and white gloves on the floor behind a chair, like they had been carelessly tossed into the room. Setting the glass down, Annie picked up the jacket and carefully laid it over the chair, running her hand along the lapels then smoothing out the front before searching for and finding the empty garment bag. Thankfully, dress uniforms were made of Polyester so with a little care, the wrinkles would fade.

Tucking the sleeves into the plastic bag, she ran the zipper halfway up, pausing long enough to run her fingers over the three lines of service ribbons, recognizing a few that were standard across most police departments, before hanging the jacket in the closet.

This was who he was, his career. He'd given the better part of his life to earn those ribbons and in one careless moment, it all meant nothing. Jimmy Brass was a good, dedicated cop; the thought of him going out like this nearly broke her heart.

Closing the closet door and turning off the light, she picked up the glass and headed to the kitchen for a quick clean up before finally going to bed.

End of Part 1


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: My thanks to everyone who read the first part and a huge thanks to everyone who left a review. Very much appreciated!

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**Sunday, November 20th**

Jim slowly opened his eyes and tried to focus on the white ceiling overhead, aware that somewhere in the neighborhood someone was fine tuning the bass in their stereo. A few more minutes and he realized the bass was in his head.

Squinting at the digital clock on the nightstand, he wasn't sure at first if it was AM or PM. And then he realized it didn't matter; there wasn't anywhere he had to be. He was on administrative leave until the shooting review board on Tuesday afternoon. Groaning, he rolled onto his stomach and pulled the pillow over his head but the pounding in his head made it impossible to go back to sleep. His best course of action was to do what he had done since he'd left Bell's funeral and stopped at the liquor store on the way home: stay drunk. And that's what he intended to do.

Pushing aside the pillow then rolling onto his back and swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he waited for the rush of nausea to pass before finally getting unsteadily to his feet and stumbling his way to the bathroom. Relieving himself in what he figured had to be a world record for longest piss taken by a hung-over man, he had a vague memory of Annie appearing at his door last night. Maybe it had been a dream—or more realistically, a figment of his saturated imagination. Still, she seemed so real to him; he could still feel the comfort of her arms around him. God, he hoped she hadn't seen him like that.

Finishing up, he noticed for the first time that he was wearing the same clothes he'd had on last night—and the day before that. Washing his hands then splashing handfuls of cold water on his face, he grabbed a towel and dried off, avoiding his reflection in the mirror. Three days later and he still couldn't stand to look at the face that stared back. He wondered if he ever could.

Hearing a noise from the other room, Brass wandered out of the bathroom and down the hallway. He was sure it wasn't an intruder. For one thing intruders usually didn't make breakfast and this one was doing just that. Standing at the edge of the living room, he watched Annie in his kitchen, not sure if he should be happy that she'd come to Vegas or angry that she was getting into his business. Either way, he knew he needed to kick Warrick Brown's ass next time he saw him.

**oooooo**

Annie heard his footsteps on the hardwood floor and without looking up said, "I found some sad looking bananas over there so I made pancakes. Given the liquid diet you've been on lately, I thought you might be hungry."

He cleared his throat and grimaced. "I could eat." Taking a seat at the table, he ran a shaking hand over the back of his head, his eyes searching the room.

Annie Kramer had been a cop for twenty-three years. She could read people like a cheap romance novel and jaded detectives weren't an exception. She knew Jimmy was looking for the bottle of scotch that had been sitting on the table the night before but she wasn't about to show her hand. "I know a greasy cheeseburger and a large coke is a better hangover remedy but this is all you got."

Setting a short stack and a fork down in front of him she went back into the kitchen and searched through the refrigerator for the syrup, finally finding it hidden behind two bottles of ketchup.

"This is fine," he said curtly.

Coming back into the dining room, she set the syrup down, watching him pick at the pancakes with his fork as a hundred memories raced through her head. This was the past. The circumstances were different but this was the way it always ended: he'd show up at her door and if he was still around in the morning, she'd make pancakes and then send him off to his wife.

"You need anything else?"

"Scotch," he said, not looking at her as he drizzled syrup over the pancakes.

Annie took a seat next to him and rested her elbow on the table. "The only thing you're going to drown yourself in the next few days is coffee."

He stopped chewing long enough to glare at her.

"Put it away. That never did work on me and it still doesn't."

"So you're planning to stick around for a few days, huh?"

Annie leaned back in the chair and crossed her arms. "A few days or however long it takes to get you back on your feet."

"I never left my feet."

"Jimmy, have you seen yourself? You're a mess. And I don't just mean physically."

He took a forkful of pancakes and stuffed it into his mouth.

"Look," she said, after a long silence, "if you want me to leave, I will. I don't want to make this any harder on you than it already is." She started to get up from the table.

Putting down his fork, he reached out and grabbed her arm. "No, I want you to stay." Letting go of her, he rubbed his thumb against his right temple. "My hearing isn't until Tuesday. I think I'm going to need the distraction." Looking up at her, he gave her a quick smile before looking away. "I'm sorry. Since I got the news—that it was my bullet that killed that kid—it's been a rough couple of days, you know? I thought I could handle it but," he shook his head. "I can't."

"Well, I'm here now." She pointed at the pancakes with her chin. "Now finish your pancakes. They're getting cold."

**oooooo**

"Where," he winced at the gravelly tone of his voice, then cleared his throat and tried again. "Where did you sleep last night?" They were still sitting at the table, Brass on his third cup of black coffee and still nursing a monster headache. At least the shakes had finally subsided.

"The spare bedroom." Annie picked up his plate and carried it into the kitchen, depositing it in the sink. "Hope that was okay."

"No, that's fine. I doubt I was fit for company."

"You're right; you weren't."

"Brought back old memories, huh?" Raising his eyebrows, he sipped his coffee, quickly realizing that even his eyebrows hurt. "Like when I was drunk off my ass and you'd come get me, drive me back to your place."

Annie came back into the room, regarding him with surprise and regret. "I'm sorry I brought that up."

"Why'd you stay with me? We weren't married. You could have walked away anytime."

"I loved you."

Shaking his head, he said dismissively, "I thought you were smarter than that."

Annie reached out and put her hand on his forearm. "Jimmy, I stayed with you then because I was in love with you and I had this foolish idea that eventually you'd leave your wife and we'd live happily ever after. I'm here now because I still love you."

This time he was surprised. "You do?"

"You were part of my life and I can't forget that just because it didn't work the way I wanted it. It's been a lot of years and things have changed between us. We're different now but that doesn't change the way I feel about you."

Her words made him think, mostly about her and how he'd never even bothered to ask if she was involved with anyone else. He'd just assumed that she was alone, like he was, when he'd called her up so many months ago. If it hadn't been for Ellie, he probably wouldn't have gotten in touch with her in the first place. Yet, she'd dropped everything to help him out. And afterwards she'd let him into her bed and given him the kind of comfort he'd needed, just like she did nearly twenty years ago. All he'd ever done was taken from her. Now he needed to give something back.

Lifting his eyes to hers, his face displaying every bit of the remorse he felt, he said quietly, "I'm sorry for putting you through all that."

Annie smiled and squeezed his hand. "Thank you. It was a long time ago but it still means a lot to hear you say that."

For the first time, Jim smiled. "I should have left Nancy and married you."

"Yeah, you should have. Now go get yourself cleaned up. You smell like a distillery."

**oooooo**

Standing in the shower, letting the hot water cascade over his body, Jim knew it was a mistake to let himself think about the shooting, about Daniel Bell's family and their life without him. A future without a husband and a daddy: that's what hurt Jim the most; what made him wish he'd been the one gunned down that Thursday morning. Brass had an ex-wife who despised him, a daughter who wanted nothing to do with him, and a brother who hadn't spoken to him in twenty-two years. No one depended on him or needed him the way Tracy Bell and her children needed Daniel. Despite the friends he'd made at work, Jim couldn't help but feel that no one would really miss him if he'd been the name and badge posted on the wall at the LVPD. He'd like to think that Gil and Catherine might say a few nice words at his funeral but at the end of the day, Jim Brass would be nothing more than a distant memory. No one would mourn his passing.

_No one but Annie. _

His mood brightened a little at the idea that she cared enough to drive nearly 300 miles with nothing to go on but a phone call.

Soaping up his chest, he thought about what Annie had told him. She'd said she loved him all those years ago. Had he been in love with her? Or had she been nothing more than a warm body and great fuck? He liked to think he loved her. He certainly felt something for her now. And eighteen years ago, when he'd driven her home and she'd invited him inside, he sure as hell wasn't in love with his wife. It was Nancy's alienation of affection that had sent him looking elsewhere. Sure, he needed sex but what he really wanted was comfort and affection. Annie had given him all of that.

He supposed at first he did see her as nothing more than a willing roll in the sack but at some point that had changed. At some point he started worrying about the countless undercover jobs she pulled at some seedy motel. At some point he was rushing her to the hospital when she got pneumonia then making up some story to Nancy about a week long stake-out in Philly so he could take care of her when she got out. So yeah, maybe he did love her all those years ago. Maybe he even loved her now.

Shutting off the water, he grabbed a towel and after rubbing it over his wet hair a few times, he wrapped it around his waist and stepped out of the shower. Hitching the towel a little tighter, he opened the door and stuck his head out before walking across the bedroom. Annie had seen him in all his naked glory more times than he could count but this felt different. He'd already exposed too much of himself to her in the short time she'd been at his house. She didn't need to see him bare-assed now.

Slipping on a pair of clean boxer-briefs and a fresh pair of tan lounge pants, he searched for a decent looking T-shirt and finally decided on a fairly new navy blue LVPD tee. He still hadn't shaved and debated whether to do it now or wait until he went before the shooting board. A playoff beard, only in his case, a shooting board beard—maybe it'd bring him luck like it had the Islanders. Chuckling briefly at the warped thought, he picked up the Braun and thumbed on the power.

**oooooo**

One thing Annie could always say about Jimmy: he cleaned up nicely. Back in the days when they both worked Vice, he could look just as seedy as the scum he was dealing with. But at the end of the day, Jim always made sure he'd scrubbed away the day's grit and grime before heading home—or to her place. As he passed her on his way to the kitchen, Annie smiled. After all these years, he still wore the same aftershave.

"What?" he asked, turning around and seeing the almost whimsical look on her face.

"Nothing," she said, shaking her head.

Brass glanced down, self-consciously running his hand over the front of his pants, making sure he hadn't forgotten something. "You don't look like that for _nothing_."

Annie pushed off from her perch on the arm of the couch and strolled over to him, coffee cup in hand. "Some things never change."

Brass headed for the coffee pot, wondering what he'd done to make her say that.

Annie leaned against the counter across from him and let him freshen up her cup. "So, you want to tell me what happened?"

Brass stared into his cup, suddenly finding the dark liquid very interesting. "No."

"You need to talk about it, Jimmy." She picked up the business card that had been lying on the counter next to the coffee pot since she got there. Holding it out to him, she asked, "Have you called?"

Ignoring the card, he brought the cup to his lips, speaking before he sipped. "I don't need a shrink."

"You do, Jimmy. You need to talk to someone. You can't keep it all locked up inside."

"Why not?" He'd been a cop long enough to know why but she was pushing him and it was starting to piss him off.

"Because it'll eat you up. Look at what it's doing to you right now. You can't live like this. You have to put the demons behind you otherwise this is slowly going to eat you up."

Jim had had enough, his anger finally boiling over. Speaking in a clear and concise voice that slowly grew louder, he said, "I shot a rookie cop and he died. What else do you need to know? You want to grill me like that asshole from IA? Tell me it was a bad shoot?" He started to walk away and then turned suddenly and walked back towards Annie. Poking himself in the chest with his thumb, he was yelling now. "I know it was a bad shoot! I have to live with it every single goddamned day of my life! Don't you think I'd take it back if I could?" He paused, daring her to answer, and then said quietly, "I wish it had been me instead."

Annie walked up to him, ignoring the anger and his left hand when it came up to push her away. Putting her arms around him, she held him tightly, even as he tried to back away. "Jimmy, stop it." She increased her hold on him. "Just stop."

Letting go of the anger and the grief, he quit fighting and finally gave in to her. Feeling her arms around him, hearing her quiet, calming whispers against his chest, he realized he'd finally done what she wanted: he'd let it all come rushing out in one massive, gut-wrenching purge. And unfortunately, she had been the recipient.

Annie stepped back and placed her hand on his cheek, her thumb stroking his jaw.

He relaxed against her cool touch and let out a loud sigh before resting his head against the wall. "You know what the worst of it is?" Brass looked up at the ceiling. "I killed her husband and she forgave me." He brought his gaze back to hers. "I would have expected a slap in the face, a punch in the gut, anything but that." He ran his hand over the top of his head. "Somehow it makes it worse to know she forgave me."

"Because you can't forgive yourself."

Jim gaze never wavered. "Yeah." Frowning, he looked away. "His wife, Tracy, she's pregnant. She has two kids and a third on the way and now she's got no husband to help support her. No daddy for those kids."

Annie looked at Jim, at the distant look his eyes now had, and knew deep down, that's what was really troubling him. Yes, he'd killed a fellow officer and made a woman a widow but much worse in his mind, he'd left two kids without a father and a baby who'd never know its daddy.

"Have you been by to see them?"

"Bell's family? No. Why would she want to see me again?"

Annie shrugged. "She forgave you. She might appreciate knowing you're there for her if she needs anything."

"I shot her husband. I don't think she wants me to be her BFF."

"I'm just saying it might be nice if you make the gesture. If she says no, hey, you asked. No harm, no foul." Annie saw the brief look of pain cross his face. "What?"

"I don't know if I can go through that again. At the funeral…it was tough."

"Ok, maybe you could call her."

"Why are you pushing this?"

"I just think you need to show her that you didn't forget after you walked away from that funeral."

Brass took in a deep breath and exhaled. All of a sudden, he felt exhausted.

"Think about it."

"Yeah, I'll think about it." He pushed away from the wall, grabbed a bottle of cold water from the refrigerator and headed out the sliding glass door.

It was nearly Thanksgiving and the weather was warm, although most people native to Las Vegas would probably say it was cool. Jim still remembered his New Jersey roots and 68 degrees under a sunny sky was a perfect spring day in his mind. Taking a seat in one of the deck chairs, he stared out at his backyard. He'd always intended to put a pool in but like everything else he'd planned to do, he never got around to it. Well, he thought, taking a swig of water and cringing at the lack of a bite, in a few days he might have a lot of time to do all those things.

Giving some thought to what Annie said, he knew deep down she was probably right. If he'd been the one to lose someone close to him and if he'd been man enough to forgive the person who took that someone from him, he'd want to know that person hadn't just taken his forgiveness and walked away. He'd want to know they still thought about it every day of their life. That is, if he could still look at that person. And that was the question that scared the hell out of him: could Tracy Bell even look at him again? She'd done so once but maybe that one time was all the courage and forgiveness she could muster. Maybe the next time he'd get the slap he felt he deserved.

He wasn't sure he wanted to press his luck.

Brass had been so lost in his thoughts he hadn't heard Annie's footsteps on the deck and jumped when her hand touched his shoulder.

"Mind if I join you?"

Brass reached out with his foot and scooted one of the chairs over so that it was next to his. He might not have a pool but he did have a nice view of the sunset. "Have a seat."

They sat in silence for some time until Jim finally spoke. "Did you ever do anything with that envelope?"

Annie gave him a sideways glance before slowly looking away. "It was my neck, Jimmy, my career."

Silently, he nodded.

Annie turned back to towards him, her hand tucking her hair behind her ear. "Nothing came of it—of Vic Patterson. I didn't have to use it against him; the jackass ended up in front of a grand jury on a real estate scam and never ran for office."

"I wondered why I never heard his name come up in the recent elections." Squinting into the sunlight, he asked the question that had been on his mind since his thoughts became coherent again. "Any news about Ellie?" He could feel his stomach knot as he waited for her answer.

"We arrested her a couple of days ago. It should keep her off the streets until I get back."

"Thanks."

"Don't thank me. She got herself arrested."

Despite what Annie said, he knew she was looking out for Ellie. "I guess I hoped maybe she was off the streets now. I stopped by her place on my way back to Vegas; left her a card from one of those rehab places, said I'd make it happen if she was ready. I haven't heard anything from her. I guess she's still not ready."

Annie reached over and put her hand on his. "Give her time, Jimmy."

"Yeah, time," he repeated with a sigh. "I'm not sure how much she has left."

Unable to disagree, Annie did the only thing she could think of: change the subject. "What made you decide on Vegas? I was surprised when I heard where you landed."

"Same reason you went to L.A., I guess: it's warm."

"Los Angeles is warm. This place is an oven."

"It's a dry heat."

"So is an oven."

They shared a laugh before Jim turned serious again. "I had to get out of Newark—away from Nancy and all the shit that fell out after Mike O'Toole went down. Vegas seemed like as good a place as any to start over. Besides, the women are nice to look at and it's probably the only place in the states where you can get your car detailed at three in the morning."

"I take it you've done both."

He raised his eyebrows and shrugged. "Once or twice."

"Those showgirls, they're all porcelain and silicon, you know."

Jim smiled at some distant memory. "Not all of them."

Annie rolled her eyes and laughed. "Vegas has mellowed you."

"Age and experience have mellowed me. Vegas knocked some of the anger out of me."

She cocked an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah? You want to explain how that happened?" She could tell when he came to L.A. that he'd lost some of the fire he'd had in Newark. Sure she saw flashes of it but she'd been impressed by how he'd managed to control his temper instead of letting it control him, like it had in the past. The old Jimmy Brass wouldn't have been nearly as patient with the likes of Ellie's drug dealing friend, Ronnie, or Todd Piccone.

Jim picked up the bottle of water and slowly unscrewed the lid, taking a long draw before putting the bottle down again. "I was a cop with a block-sized chip on my shoulder when I got here but with everything that went down back in Newark, I had a good recommendation from McClusky and my jacket was fairly clean. Vegas is the city of second chances and I sure as hell needed one plus, they were willing to give me a lateral transfer. I figured I'd put in a couple more years, get me a little place on Lake Mead and die with a smile on my face in one of those strip clubs."

"Porcelain and silicone," Annie said again.

Jim shook his head and smiled. "It was a lot easier here. Crime was up but it was nothing like the shit we saw back East. I was fast tracking it, started to play politics and along the way, I got lazy and indifferent. I was losing my edge and I didn't care."

"You were burned out."

"And fried crispy. Nancy was up my ass about Ellie and child support and Ellie wasn't speaking to me and that chip on my shoulder was starting to get pretty heavy, you know? I got selected for promotion, went through all my exams and certs and got my notification that I was a top candidate and then a couple of days later I was involved in an _incident_. I shot a passenger in a felony pursuit." Brass took another swig of water and really wished he had a cigarette or a beer or something to take the edge off.

Annie moved her chair around so that she was now facing him. Leaning forward, her elbows resting on her knees, she urged him to go on.

"There was a call about a stolen car. I'm sitting at a light when the car comes flying through the intersection, hits a parked car then keeps going. Well, I called it in and went after him." Leaning forward, he became more animated. "We were both flying. I think at one point we were doing in excess of 100 miles per hour. I get along side him, thinking I'll try to force him off the road but the guy starts shooting at me so I shoot back. I missed the driver, capped the passenger instead. There was an investigation and I was cleared but it was an election year and the sheriff was doing a major CYA so there were concessions."

"They still promoted you…"

"If I agreed to ride a desk as CSI supervisor."

"You worked CSI?"

"Yeah, until my next great screw up." He winced at the memory. "There was a rookie CSI, Holly Gribbs, just out of the academy and full of rules and regulations, policies and procedures but no experience. She was pushed into the job by her mom and thought she wanted to be a CSI but some of these kids, you can see it on their faces. They just aren't cut out for certain aspects of the job and she was one of them. Well, I took the tough love approach. Make her miserable and hopefully, she'll get fed up and ask for a transfer. Instead, she ended up dead and it was my fault."

"Shit falls downhill."

Jim shrugged. "Shit falls wherever I happen to be standing. I sent her out in the field before she was ready. There were a lot of circumstances but ultimately, it was me. They moved me back to homicide and didn't demote me but it was pretty clear that I'd be retiring a captain. After this latest fiasco, I'll be lucky if they let me work reception."

The sun made one final gasp of glory, streaming pinks and reds across the sky before finally fading out of view.

"Everything's going to be okay, Jimmy. You'll do fine."

"Oh yeah? You know something I don't?"

"I know you're a good cop."

"Sometimes being a good cop isn't enough."

Shrugging, Annie rubbed her hands over her arms, obviously cold now that the sun had all but disappeared. "I'm going to head inside." She stood up and held out her hand. "You coming?"

"Yeah." He took her hand and got to his feet, standing just a few inches away from her. It was on his mind that he should kiss her. The look on her face told him she wouldn't be disappointed if he did and lord knew he wanted to but he couldn't. Sure it was just a kiss but Brass still felt like he was somehow betraying Tracy Bell's absolution.

Giving Annie an apologetic smile, he stepped past her and went inside, leaving her alone to wonder what just happened.

**oooooo**

After Annie chided him for not having any food in the house, they ordered Chinese for dinner and watched the L.A. Kings lose to Anaheim in overtime. By the time the hockey game ended, Jim felt tired but was still awake while Annie had fallen asleep on the sofa.

Flipping through the channels, trying to keep his mind off the idea of trying to find that last bottle of scotch, he glanced over to see that Annie was now awake and watching him.

"Who won?"

"Anaheim," Jim answered. "Pronger scored in overtime."

Annie sat up and ran her hand through her hair. "The Kings are terrible."

"Yeah. Unfortunately, around here it's either the Kings or the Coyotes. Every now and then I get lucky and catch a Devils game."

Annie got to her feet and stretched her back. "Think I'll head to bed."

Jim shifted his gaze back to the TV, unsure how she'd take what he was about to say. "You know, you don't have to sleep in the other room tonight. I mean, not unless you want to."

Standing in front of him, she crossed her arms. "Is that an invitation?"

He looked up at her. "Yeah, it is."

She kissed the top of his head then stifled a yawn as she headed off to his bedroom.

Admiring her ass as she walk down the hallway, he scratched the back of his head then turned off the TV and the lights and trailed behind her.

**oooooo**

Lying in bed, watching the way the light from the street made triangular shapes on the ceiling, Jim's mind was betraying him.

Sleeping, or attempting to sleep, was what he dreaded the most since the shooting. It was when he heard tires screeching and shots fired, and when he saw Bell fall to the ground, gasping for breath. It was when his restless mind tried to piece together what Gil said had happened, when he tried to envision himself firing the bullet that killed Bell. It was why he drank.

Annie's presence helped. She'd kept him talking, kept his mind from going to those dark places and digging up those images during the day. But now with her asleep next to him, he was at the mercy of his own thoughts.

**---**

Annie rolled onto her side and slowly opened her eyes, watching Jim drag his hands over his face. Reaching out, she touched the side of his face, her fingers tracing his jaw, and then moved to his lips only to have Jim turn away from her.

Annie moved closer to him, reaching out and urging him to look at her. When he finally relented, she ran her hand over his forehead, her palm resting against the side of his face. Pressing her lips to his, she kissed him reassuringly.

She'd only intended to offer him some sort of comfort and at first Jim hesitated. But soon enough his mouth was on hers, kissing her with growing intensity, and quickly it became very clear what was happening.

Annie withdrew first, sitting up long enough to strip away her camisole and let the matching silk shorts slide to the floor. Jim watched, his eyes drifting down to her exposed breasts, to her nipples hardened by the cool room, then followed suit, pulling his T-shirt over his head and slipping out of his boxer-briefs.

Even in the dim light Annie could see the dark look in Jim's eyes, as if he had taken on the demeanor of some sort of feral animal. It came as no surprise when he guided her onto her back and began his assault. His hand rested on her hip, gently exploring the subtle curve, and while he kissed and nuzzled her breasts, he let that hand roam until it found the cleft between her legs. She parted her thighs, allowing him access to all the places she ached for him to touch. Annie didn't expect a lot of foreplay. She could sense that Jim was still caught between primal desire and guilt, which meant he hadn't the patience for long, sensual games. Still, as she slid her hand along his thigh, she was surprised to find he was already hard.

Feeling his fingers stroking the hard bud of her clitoris, aroused by the anticipation of so much more, Annie was grateful he wasn't making her wait. Biting her lip as he pushed into her, Annie felt an uncomfortable tightness that quickly eased into a warm, slick friction as he set a steady, assiduous tempo.

---

Jim knew it was a mistake to invite Annie into his bed. It wasn't her he faulted; it was his own weakened defense. But then, his resolve never could stand up to Annie Kramer.

He'd hesitated when she kissed him, one last attempt at some sort of warped homage to Daniel Bell, but Annie felt warm and close and he was desperate for contact. He'd spent the last few days dwelling on death so much that he'd come to despise his own existence. But right now, he wanted to feel something other than the emptiness that occupied the hole in his gut. He wanted to feel alive again; he needed to _feel _Annie.

As he watched her undress, his body reacted to the sight of her bare skin with such intensity his conscience momentarily shoved aside any remaining feelings of guilt. There would be time for regret later, after he'd surrendered to the overwhelming sense of urgency.

Shifting his hips, Jim positioned himself between her legs, meeting resistance at first before pushing into her. Quickly finding his rhythm, thrusting in and out with long strokes, he reveled in the feel of her, of the pressure of her legs wrapped around his hips as she arched against him. Closing his eyes, he stepped up the pace, vaguely aware that her nails were pressing into his flesh as he sprinted towards the finish line.

_They arrive on the scene amidst complete chaos. Gunfire echoes from all sides, bullets ricocheting off metal and glass and concrete._

Jim stopped abruptly, hovering over Annie's lean body, aware of her look of concern and waving it off.

"It's okay," he said, breathlessly, perspiration dripping off the end of his nose and onto her chest.

Repositioning himself, he lifted her left leg, tucking his arm under her knee, and thrusting forward as he ran his hand down the back of her thigh, over her ass and up to the small of her back. Leaning down, kissing her breasts and then tonguing one nipple as he stroked the other, he pressed his weight against her, feeling the friction as he slowly increased the tempo.

_He can feel the heat when he pops open the door and draws his weapon. His heart is pounding so loudly in his chest he swears he can hear it over the noise. In front of him a bullet hits one of the patrol cars and flattens a tire. He's on his feet, squeezing off shot after shot, before taking cover. A bullet pings off the back panel of Bell's cruiser and he can hear it whiz past his head._ _He doesn't see Bell again until he breaks cover and then he sees the blood, oozing from the through and through in his neck. And suddenly the ragged breathing he hears is his own._

As Jim tried to bury each flitting image, his once steady rhythm became rough and erratic, deep and penetrating until he finally came with a loud grunt and a rush of emotion.

---

When he had paused in mid-thrust, Annie knew something was wrong. Despite what he said, it wasn't okay and she should have told him so. Instead her selfish desire let him keep going and now she was paying for it as the hard penetrating thrusts made her cervix ache, pushing her well beyond any chance of an orgasm. Pleasure had quickly turned to pain and she was on the verge of pushing him off her when he let out an almost primal cry that slowly evolved into what Annie thought was a loud sob. As he collapsed against her, the sobs grew, wracking his shoulders and engulfing his entire body.

Annie's irritation faded as she instinctively wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly, her hands stroking his back.

Jim rolled away from her grasp, muttering an apology as he searched in the darkness for his discarded boxer-briefs. Finding them on the floor beside the bed, he tugged them on quickly then headed out the bedroom door.

Annie lay in the center of the bed, feeling the welcome relief of an empty void. She could hear Jim rattling around in the other room, slamming cabinet doors in his search for the last bottle of scotch. And this time she wasn't going to stop him. Hell, after that she might even join him.

**oooooo**

Jim opened one cabinet and then another and another until finally a flicker of satisfaction crossed his face as the bottle of Glenfiddich greeted him. Grabbing a tumbler, he had the bottle open, the liquid in the glass and the glass to his lips when Annie came into the living room.

Catching her gaze, he hesitated for a fraction then downed the measure and refilled, not caring how much he was offending the gods of Scotch whisky for gulping it down rather than sipping it.

Annie didn't say a word. Nor did she move from her place against the doorway when Jim took the bottle and the glass and passed her on his way to the living room.

Watching as he settled onto the sofa, she turned slightly and said, "You going to sit there and drink all night or are you coming back to bed?"

Without looking at her he said, "You sure you want me back in bed?"

"It's your bed."

Jim conceded her point with a nod and another gulp of the amber liquid. His gaze followed her as she walked across the room and sat down next to him, took the glass from his hand and poured herself a small measure.

"Annie, I'm sorry."

"I know you are." She took a long sip then passed the glass back to him. "I'm partly to blame too, you know."

"No, you're not."

"I could have told you to stop."

He shook his head as he set the glass on the table, not bothering to finish it. "You shouldn't have to."

"We could go round and round on this for days." Annie stood up. "Come on," she said, holding out her hand and waiting for him. "I don't know about you but I'm tired."

He was tired too, exhausted, actually, but he knew it wasn't as easy as just going back to bed and falling asleep. Following her to the bedroom, he headed into the bathroom and shut the door. He knew Annie wouldn't approve of what he was about to do but he also knew it was the only way he'd get any sleep. Opening the medicine cabinet and taking out the brown bottle, he popped open the cap and shook out one pill from the nearly empty bottle. He'd gotten the prescription for _Ambien_ after Nick's ordeal six months ago. Like everyone else, he'd been running on fumes trying to find Nick and after it was over, he hadn't been able to sleep for nearly a week. Labels all over the bottle warned against consuming alcohol but he'd only had a small amount. Besides, he thought, as he palmed the pill and swallowed it dry, if the trade-off was to never have to relive that moment again, he was more than willing to take that risk.

------

End of Part 2


	3. Chapter 3

**Monday, November 21st**

Annie woke first and tried to extricate herself from Jim's grasp without disturbing him. He'd stirred long enough to open one eye and mumble something incoherent, then rolled over and went back to sleep.

Feeling the dull ache between her thighs and in the small of her back, Annie had already anticipated that last night would leave her sore and bruised. She wouldn't deny she'd been angry with him but seeing the anguish on his face afterward, the regret in what he'd done, she couldn't stay mad.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the front door.

Hastily tugging on her jeans and shirt, she raked her fingers through her hair as she pulled the bedroom door to and then went to answer the door.

**oooooo**

Gil Grissom knew he probably should have called first but he'd just finished processing a double homicide and Jim's house was on the way back to the lab. It never occurred to him that Jim could have company, not even when he saw the dark gray sedan parked on the street in front of Jim's house. Probably just a neighbor's car, he thought, pulling into the driveway. So when he knocked on the door and a sleepy-eyed woman answered, Grissom knew that his half-opened mouth revealed his surprise. He was also aware that he was staring at her and she was staring back.

"I, uh, I'm sorry. I'm looking for Jim Brass?" Uncomfortable under her watchful eye, he stuck his hand out awkwardly, and said, "I'm Gil Grissom. We work together."

Although he and Jim never really discussed their personal lives, Gil felt certain Jim would have mentioned a new girlfriend. At the very least, he would have told Catherine and she would have mentioned it.

"Annie Kramer," the woman said, grasping his hand and giving it a firm shake.

Grissom recognized the name. "Ah, _Captain_ Kramer, LAPD."

"That's right," she said, opening the door and inviting him in. "Jimmy and I worked together back in New Jersey." She motioned for him to sit down.

Grissom suppressed a smile but cocked an amused eyebrow at her use of the name, _Jimmy_. On the day he was introduced to Jim Brass, he'd been told it was Jim, occasionally James but never Jimbo or Jimmy. Obviously Jim made exceptions for old work acquaintances, although Grissom suspected Captain Annie Kramer was much more than an acquaintance.

Waving off her request to sit, Grissom stayed by the door. It was early and he had already guessed by her slightly disheveled clothes and hair that he'd gotten her out of bed. As there was no sign of Jim and Annie had been speaking in a soft voice, he assumed Brass was still asleep. "I just stopped by to see how Jim's doing. I'm not sure how much he told you…"

"Not everything but enough to know what happened." Annie followed Grissom's gaze to the bottle and glass on the coffee table. "He's had a few rough spots but he's managing."

Grissom's expression was grim as he nodded in understanding. He was only doing his job but he still couldn't wipe away the image of Jim's reaction to the news or his own feeling of helplessness. Grissom knew Jim well enough to know that he'd never ask for anyone's help; that he'd quietly suffer through the guilt and accept the consequences alone. "Well, it's good he has a friend."

"I'd say he has a few," she said, smiling.

"He does. How long are you in town?" He didn't want to pry but if the review board didn't go well, Grissom wanted to make sure Jim would be all right.

"I'm here as long as I need to be."

This time Grissom's smile was warm and genuine. "I'm sure he appreciates the company." He took a card out of his jacket pocket and passed it to her. "If you need anything, give me a call."

"Thank you," she said, accepting the card. "I will."

"I won't keep you." Even though Annie had done nothing to make him feel like it, Grissom still felt he was intruding on something. "I just wanted to see how he's doing."

"I'll tell him you stopped by."

Grissom started out the door then stopped and turned back to her. "It was nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too," she said, following him onto the porch. The morning air was cool, raising goose bumps over her exposed skin as she watched the departing man then headed back inside to make coffee.

**oooooo**

Brass woke up feeling better than he had in days. Gone was the fuzziness and headache that usually accompanied the hangover, not to mention the dehydration. However, he was aware of another ache; this one centered in his shoulders and hips, and he quickly remembered why. Running his hand over the void on the other side of the bed, feeling cool sheets under his palm, he wondered if Annie had gotten enough of him and went back to L.A. He wouldn't blame her if she had. He hadn't exactly been enjoyable to be around and last night hadn't helped.

Ignoring the crack of both knees, he gathered up his clothes and walked into the bathroom. He guessed she had to be fairly disappointed with him. He wasn't the same man he'd been back in New Jersey. And he was sure Annie noticed it: he'd lost his edge. Since coming to Vegas he'd become boring and middle-aged and now he couldn't even say he was a good cop any more.

Splashing cold water over his face then running wet hands through his hair, he stared at the worn reflection looking back. Yes, she had to be disappointed in him; he sure as hell was disappointed in himself.

Wandering into the living room, his mood couldn't help but brighten at the smell of fresh brewed coffee but the empty room troubled him. Perhaps his morose thoughts were correct; perhaps she did leave.

"Annie?" he called out before noticing her keys and pocketbook were missing along with her car.

_Shit._

The gloom swept back over him. Sitting down on the sofa, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, he locked his hands behind his head. He felt sick. He'd taken from her one too many times and she'd finally had enough. His self-absorbed behavior was one thing that hadn't changed since Newark.

Hearing the roar of an engine as a car pulled into the driveway, he was off the sofa out the door in a matter of seconds. "Annie!" he said, greeting her as she opened the car door. Waiting until she was out of the car, he wrapped his arms around her tightly.

"You were out of milk," she said, obviously startled by his exuberance.

Releasing her from his grasp, his hands lingered on her bare arms, but his eyes couldn't quite manage contact with hers. He whispered, "I thought you left."

Annie's eyes softened. Raising a hand to his head, she brushed his hair with her fingers. "I have to have milk in my coffee and you were still dead to the world so I ran to the store to pick up a few things. I didn't think I'd be gone very long but I took a wrong turn on the way back."

"I'm glad you found your way."

"So am I." She pointed over her shoulder to the back seat. "Grab a bag. Make yourself useful."

Grinning, he reached in and grabbed both bags then waited for her to close the door and lead the way inside the house.

---

After quickly putting away the groceries and splashing some milk in her coffee, Annie took her mug out to the front porch while Jim took a phone call from the precinct. When he came outside a few minutes later, he found her sitting on the steps, coffee mug in hand and gazing up at the impossibly blue sky.

"The chairs out back are more comfortable," he said, standing behind her.

"This side's still in the shade." She looked up at him. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, they just wanted to remind me that my hearing's at 1300 hours tomorrow."

Annie turned her attention back to the sky. "I think I'm starting to get why you like it out here."

He took a sip from his mug. "It can't be that much different than L.A."

"No Santa Ana winds or marine layer and the air's better," she said, moving over so he could sit down.

Looking up at the sky, he shrugged. "It's nice out here but closer to the Strip and it can get pretty bad." Stepping down, he took a seat next to her.

"How long have you lived here?"

Jim looked up, trying to recollect. "Let's see, I rented a one bedroom apartment when I first moved out here then I got some crazy idea that Ellie would need a room when she came to visit. So, ten, eleven years maybe?"

"Has she ever been out to visit?"

Jim regarded her through bushy eyebrows. "What do you think?"

Annie didn't answer but her expression said she understood.

"I'm sure she's been out here a couple of dozen times but the one time I saw her, she got herself caught up with a couple of drug mules and I nearly got arrested for murder."

Annie's head slowly turned, her eyebrows raised.

"I told you about that, didn't I?"

"You told me she got into some trouble but apparently you left out a few details."

He sighed deeply and looked resigned as he stared into the dark liquid in his mug. "Yeah, well…"

She laid her hand on his arm. "It's okay. You don't have to tell me."

Jim ran his hand over his head, thankful she hadn't pressed him for more. He knew he'd tell her eventually but right now, he didn't need to revisit past trouble.

"Hey, that reminds me," Annie said, obviously changing the subject. "You had company earlier."

"Oh yeah?" He took another sip of coffee.

"Gil Grissom. He stopped by to see how you were doing."

He set the mug down. "Did you tell him I'm an emotional mess and took out all my frustrations on you last night?"

"No, we skipped that part. He's a nice guy. He's worried about you."

Jim raised his eyebrows, realizing that once again he'd underestimated his friends.

Annie twisted around to face him, her expression fixed and determined. "We're getting away from here today."

"We are?"

"We are. You're not spending another day in this house and if you bring up last night one more time, I swear I'll deck you."

Seeing the unwavering look in her eyes, he knew she could and would make good on her threat. "Any idea where we're getting away to?"

"I've never been to Hoover Dam."

"Want to drive or fly?"

Crossing one knee over the other, Annie leaned back on her elbows. "Drive or fly? I have a choice?"

Brass ran his fingers through her hair, brushing it off her shoulder and tucking it behind her ear. "I know someone who runs one of those Hoover Dam/Grand Canyon tours. He owes me a couple of favors."

"If you can arrange it, I'd love to fly."

"Sure. I'll make a call and see when'll be a good time." He started to get up but Annie's hand on his thigh stopped him.

"Jimmy, what happened last night, you've apologized already. Let it go, okay?"

He squinted, more as a defense than anything else. "Thanks but I can't let it go. That wasn't me, Annie. I don't know what I was thinking but I promise it'll never happen again."

"I know. I also know that if I'd told you to stop, you would have."

He gave her a half smile. "You have way too much faith in me."

"Maybe I do." Reaching out, she turned his face towards hers. "Maybe you could use a little faith in yourself."

He felt her fingers caressing the scruff on his jaw just before she leaned in and kissed him. And this time he didn't turn away.

**oooooo**

After a quick phone call, Jim and Annie were on their way to Sparrow Helicopter Tours, where the owner, Charlie Sparrow, promised Jim that he and his friend would "fly like a bird" over Lake Mead, Hoover Dam and the Grand Canyon. Annie had been a little disappointed to hear that restrictions would prevent them from landing near the dam but her excitement was renewed when Jim told her they'd be landing on the canyon floor and picnicking on the banks of the Colorado River.

On the drive to the airport Jim gave Annie the Las Vegas homicide tour, casually pointing out some of the more heinous crime scenes he'd handled with all the gory details he could recollect.

"If you're trying to gross me out, Jimmy, it won't work," she said, rolling her eyes after he'd graphically described an impalement on the rod-iron fence next to a building they'd just passed.

"So after all your years on the force, nothing squicks you out?" he asked her.

"Remember when they pulled Ellie's friend, Dakota, out of the lake?"

"Floaters, huh?"

She nodded, a look of disgust wrinkling her nose. "I think it's because there's all that gas inside and at some point, it's gonna come out." She shuddered at the lingering smell the thought conjured up. "What about you? All these years on homicide, anything gross you out?"

Jim scratched the back of his neck in what Annie recognized as a stall tactic. "I don't like touching dead bodies," he finally confessed.

"What?" she asked with an incredulous laugh.

In a louder voice, he repeated, "I don't like touching dead bodies."

"Any reason why?"

"Well for one thing, they're dead."

"Come on, there has to be something worse than that?"

"There was this one time a few years ago. We had a DB in a shopping cart. Grissom and I are standing there, talking, when all of a sudden her mouth starts to move. Now I'm taking a couple of steps back while Grissom shines his light on the body. All of a sudden her mouth pops open and a rat crawls out. I never puked at a scene but that was damn close."

As the drive and the tour continued, Annie found all of his stories fascinating and wondered what he'd do if the review board didn't go his way. Like her, being a cop was the only thing he knew how to do; she couldn't imagine him doing anything else.

They arrived at the entrance to the charter flights just before ten and as Jim parked the car, a tall, broad-shouldered older man in a well-worn and grease-smudged ballcap ambled towards them across the tarmac.

"Hey, Cap'n Brass! How the hell are ya?" He had a booming voice, no doubt honed from years of yelling over the whine of rotor blade engines.

Brass stuck out his right hand to have it pumped vigorously in Charlie's vice-like grip and pumped vigorously. "Thanks for taking us on short notice."

"Anything for you, Cap'n." Charlie let go of Jim's hand as his gaze wandered to Annie. "Who's your pretty friend?"

Jim reached into the back seat for his hat and a light cotton shirt to wear over his dark polo. Straightening up and closing the door, he nodded at Charlie and said, "Charlie Sparrow, this is Annie Kramer."

Charlie elbowed Jim in the ribs. "Nice."

Annie grabbed a long-sleeved shirt and a hat borrowed from Jim, and shook her head as she closed the other door. She was used to working with men and hearing all sorts of comments so this one didn't bother her. But judging by the way Jim squared his shoulders and stuck out his chin, it must have bothered him.

"Annie is a captain with LAPD so mind your manners."

Charlie ducked in close to Jim but didn't bother lowering his voice, "That little wisp of a thing?"

"That little wisp can break your arm in two places."

Charlie glanced at Annie then back at Jim. "Seriously?" he asked, rubbing a rough hand over his tanned neck.

"Seriously. She once busted a guy's nose with a single punch."

Charlie blew out a loud breath and pointed at the small office with his thumb. "I'll just be finishing up the, ah, paperwork and then we'll head out."

Annie came up behind Jim and put her hand on his back, giving him a little pat. "You didn't mention the nose I broke was yours and it was completely by accident." He'd been trying to teach her how to box and during a sparing session at the gym, he'd turned away momentarily and she'd caught him dead center with a right cross.

He winked at her. "He didn't need to know the details."

After a short wait while Charlie finished up his paperwork and loaded up the helicopter, Jim and Annie climbed aboard and took a seat across from each other next to a large, tinted window.

Annie looked around the inside. "I think I've been in one of these once or twice."

"Yeah, me too. Never for fun though."

"So how do you know Charlie?"

"A few years back a couple of guys tried to take a helicopter for a joy ride. Didn't end well for one of them." He made a cutting motion across his neck. "During the investigation I found out Charlie flew Huey's in and out of Camp Reasoner while I was stationed there."

"Camp Reasoner?"

Charlie climbed into the pilot's seat. "DaNang, ma'am. Viet-fucking-nam."

Annie gave Jim an incredulous look. "How come I didn't know you were in Vietnam?"

Shifting in his seat, Jim shrugged. "You never asked."

Narrowing her eyes, she said, "Well, I am now."

"I did a stint with the Marines just out of high school. After basic ended, they shipped me off to sunny southeast Asia."

"I was with the Third Battalion 1st Marines," Charlie chimed in with a wide smile. "The Thundering Third, oo-rah!"

"I was 1st Recon," Jim said. "We overlapped for about a year."

Annie was still in shock. "You were just a baby."

Charlie again chimed in, "Still fresh from his mama's tit and without hair one on the ol' nutbag."

Jim put his hands up. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, Charlie! Man, that was TMI." He looked at Annie and started to laugh.

"Sorry, Cap'n Brass." Charlie flipped a switch and the heavy rotors fired up.

Jim rolled his eyes. Leaning forward and in a low voice, he said, "He couldn't have picked me out of a line-up back then."

Laughing, Annie sat back in the chair and felt the vibration of the engines. Watching Jim, the dark baseball hat pulled down low over his sunglasses, she realized that all she really knew about him were snippets of his life. Sure she could describe the small brown birthmark on the back of his left hip or the tattoo on his right shoulder but she knew very little about his family or his childhood. And yet, she still felt a strong bond with the man. Of course that was to be expected when two people had swapped the amount of bodily fluids they had, but that was the problem. Their relationship had been based on sex from the very start. Conversation had always been work related and rarely personal. Hell, it took her fifteen years to find out Ellie wasn't his kid or that she hadn't been responsible for breaking up his marriage after all. What other secrets were waiting to be exposed?

**oooooo**

The flight took them along the strip, past the Stratosphere and over Fremont Street before banking to the east where the view opened up to mountains and desert. A few minutes later and they were looking at sparking blue water.

"What you're looking at now is Las Vegas Bay. Below is Crescent Island and then off to the right is Sand Island." They swooped down low over the coast as Charlie buzzed a bare-assed couple on the beach who did nothing more than flip them off.

"Sand never really appealed to me," Jim said, smirking.

"No kidding," Annie said, looking over at him. "It takes at least a month to get it out of everything." Jim looked up quickly and Annie shrugged. "Hey, I live in Southern California."

Jim didn't know why her comment bothered him. He had no hold on her and hadn't wanted one, but over the last few days he'd felt that change. There was no reason to be jealous and yet, the thought of her with another guy made his teeth itch. Shifting his gaze to the window, he realized that in all the years he'd known Annie, this was the first thing they'd ever done openly as a couple. Their relationship had revolved mostly around sex and law enforcement, never anything as adventurous as taking a trip to the Grand Canyon and having a picnic lunch. He wondered if they would have anything to talk about. Maybe all they really did have in common was sex and the job. After spending a few days around him would she realize that his life was mundane at best, that deep down he was nothing more than a broken down cop with too much baggage? On the other hand, he thought, looking over at her, she'd taken time off to drive to Vegas and make sure he was all right. And she'd done it because someone called and said he was in trouble. For that he owed her everything. Leaning across the seat, he pressed forward and kissed her cheek.

"What was that for?" she asked, turning sharply and giving him a curious smile.

"Because I couldn't have made it this far without you."

She took his hand and gave it a squeeze. "You need to thank your friend, Warrick, for looking out for you."

Jim nodded. He'd known all along it was Warrick but knowing for sure had given him a rush of warm feelings. Brass had always felt like an outsider around Grissom's group of CSI's. Part of it had to do with the fact that he was older than they were; he'd been doing the job for a lot longer and he didn't always share their optimism. But he felt the other reason went back a few years, to the time when he'd been in charge of CSI.

When Brass took the job at CSI, there had been a huge chip on his shoulder. He hadn't wanted the job but he had wanted to stay employed and keep his rank; it was his only option. The job was mostly administrative and Jim had spent a good chunk of time bored out of his mind but Grissom's crime lab had the highest solve rate in the country and Brass was determined to make himself look good for once. Nick and Warrick were young, ambitious, and competitive and Brass did everything he could to foster that edge, even if it meant playing favorites and pissing someone off.

Brass still regretted the way he had handled Warrick. Fortunately, both men had put the past behind them and moved on. Still, the irony wasn't lost on Jim. The one man who'd managed to push all of his buttons was also the one man who'd been looking out for him. Jim really didn't know how to thank Warrick for calling Annie. A fruit basket with a sappy Hallmark card just wasn't going to cut it.

They flew low over Hoover Dam and followed the river down to Fortification Hill before descending deep into the Grand Canyon. A short time later, they started their decent and landed on the canyon floor.

"This here's the Hualapai Indian reservation." Charlie waved his hand over the vast expanse before them. "In a couple of years that glass skywalk of theirs is supposed to be done. If you ask me though, this is still the best way to see the Grand Canyon."

"Beats the backside of a mule," Jim said, stepping out of the helicopter then offering his hand to Annie.

"You ever done one of those, Cap'n?"

"No, never had the pleasure but I hear the South Rim is booked a year out."

"Yeah, I heard that too." Charlie reached into the back of the aircraft and pulled out a picnic basket. "This is for you and your lady," he said, handing it to Jim. "We sweep the area regularly for rattlers but they don't always stay away so keep an eye out. You'll generally hear them before you see them." Charlie pointed to a path. "If you follow that, you'll find a nice little area to picnic. We have a separate agreement with the Hualapai to use this place so you won't see nobody else around here."

"How'd you manage that?" Annie asked.

"My daddy was Choctaw-Chickasaw," Charlie said, grinning. "But my momma is Hualapai. I got connections."

**oooooo**

Although it was November, the desert temperature was in the upper 80's, much warmer than the low 70's they'd had at Jim's house. The picnic area was a short hike away from the helicopter, which was nice considering the amount of dust and debris the blades stirred up on the landing.

Jim carried the basket down then left it with Annie while he went back up to talk to Charlie.

Unloading the contents of the basket, Annie found cheese and assorted crackers, sandwiches, pre-packaged salads, fresh fruit, a small bottle of Moet chilled in a cold pack, plastic stemware and plastic cutlery. There was even a neatly wrapped box containing two slices of cheesecake and a container of strawberries. If this was the standard fare for one of these rides, then Annie had completely under-estimated Charlie Sparrow.

"I think this thing is bottomless," she said as Jim came up beside her, the loud copter engines kicking up a dust cloud overhead. The area was isolated but obviously set up for tourists with picnic tables under what Charlie called an "authentic Indian Ramada", trash receptacles, and even a port-o-potty several hundred feet away and nearly hidden by scrub brush. Apparently, the Hualapai thought of everything.

"Charlie had to make a mail run over to the ranger station. He'll be back for us in about an hour and a half."

"Oh, yeah? So in the meantime we're stranded out here?"

Jim slipped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder as he stared at the rushing water of the Colorado River, and the red canyon walls whose years of history were etched into stone. "Yeah, we're stranded out here."

Annie slipped around in his grasp, facing him, her hand coming up to touch his jaw. "Can't think of a better place to be or a better person to be with."

The corner of Jim's mouth twitched then turned up in a half smile. Inhaling sharply, he wanted her to say the words, to tell him she loved him; because that's what he wanted to tell her.

**oooooo**

"Looks like Charlie really took care of us. Setting us up with all this food, the trip, everything." Sitting shoulder to shoulder at one of the shaded tables, they had finished off the sandwiches and salads and were picking at the fresh fruit, Annie stealing all the grapes.

"Yeah, he's a little rough around the edges but he's a good guy."

Annie slid her leg over the bench seat, turning so she faced Jim. "It's obvious he respects you."

"I'm a captain. I don't know that he respects me so much as he respects the rank, regardless if it's military or not." Jim shook his head. "It's funny because he outranked me. I was a corporal; he was a sergeant."

"I can't believe I never knew you were in Vietnam. Were you drafted?"

"I enlisted but you might say it was under duress. I got in a lot of trouble my senior year in high school so the last time it happened, my dad told my uncle Danny to give me an ultimatum."

"I take it uncle Danny was a cop."

He nodded, "Yeah, a beat cop."

"And what was the ultimatum, shape up or ship out?"

"Something like that." She watched his expression change as he recalled a distant memory. "I was being rebellious; I was pissed off at my dad and my uncle so after I somehow managed to graduate, I shipped out."

Annie looked at him long and hard. "Sounds like Ellie's a lot more like you than you think."

Jim frowned at her. "I did some things I'm not too proud of but I was never into drugs or any of that other crap."

Realizing she'd touched a very sensitive nerve, she apologized then asked, "Why the Marines?"

"My dad's youngest brother, Eddy, was just a few years older than me. Growing up, he lived with us for a while. I always looked up to him, like he was a big brother instead of my uncle. Eddy got drafted in '69 and went into the Marines. I figured if he was a Marine, I'd be one too." Jim leaned on the table and clasped his hands. "I guess I had some idea that I'd be in his unit and we'd kill the VC together. Unfortunately, by the time I got over there, Eddy was coming home." He looked down at his hands and Annie knew without asking what he meant.

"I'm sorry."

Bringing his hands up and rubbing his fingers over his eyes, he shrugged. "It seems like a lifetime ago."

Jim grew quiet for a long time and Annie could tell by his darkened expression that he was miles away from her, probably in some soggy rice paddy in South East Asia. And when he suddenly started talking again, the sound of his voice surprised her.

"When we came on the scene, it was like being back in Vietnam. The next couple of nights I started having nightmares about being back there—in the jungle. That's when I started drinking. I haven't had one of those nightmares in a long time." Squinting at the red rock of the canyon, he flexed his left hand in a familiar gesture Annie recognized.

Putting her hand on his arm, she caught his gaze. "Tell me what happened, Jimmy."

Brass stared at her for a long time, undoubtedly weighing the merit of her request. And when he finally spoke again, he began to recount the events, giving her every detail he could remember.

"Here's the thing." He licked his lips. "Sofia was so sure she was the shooter that I was certain it wasn't me." Cutting his hand across the air, he said, "Never even crossed my mind. And then Grissom shows up in front of my house and tells me I must have stood up and fired at the exact moment Bell took a slug in the vest." Jim pointed at his neck. "It was a through and through. He bled out before the EMT's could get to him." Jim sucked in air and blew it out then leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table and his hands locked together. "Next thing I'm at the funeral and it's like…I have the bird flu or something. I mean, I clear one side of the room in less than thirty seconds."

Annie reached out and put her hand on his shoulder. She knew what it took for him to recount the story and what it took out of him. "Jimmy, you said it was chaos. You were under fire."

"That doesn't excuse the fact that I shot over the top of another officer. You know as well as I do that's completely against protocol."

"It was extenuating circumstances. They should take that into consideration."

"You know, Annie, at this point, I don't think I care." Jim quickly got to his feet and rubbed the back of his head as he paced. "They can absolve me but it all comes down to one thing: I shot and killed a fellow officer. That's something I'll never be able to take back." Jim sat down on the other side of the table, his back to Annie as he leaned forward. "Maybe I should quit. Save them the time of firing me—or demoting me—again."

Annie got to her feet and came around to his side of the table, taking a seat next to him. Putting her arm around his shoulders she pulled him into an awkward hug. "It's not in you to quit."

Slipping his arm around her waist, Jim leaned against her and sighed. "Yeah, well, you're probably right. I never could quit anything. Not my marriage, not you, not Ellie. I definitely couldn't quit being a cop."

"Of course I'm right." She ran her hand over his back, smiling when he glanced sideways at her. "Hey, how about dessert?" she asked, reaching around to open the two wrapped packages and handing Jim a fork. Scooting the small bottle of champagne towards Jim, she let him do the honors, watching as he popped the cork and poured equal measures into plastic stemware. "We should make a toast."

"To what?" He turned around on the seat so he was facing her.

"How about," she raised her glass, "to Daniel Bell."

Jim nodded and said solemnly, "To Daniel Bell." Taking a sip of champagne, he was quiet for a long time before running his tongue over his bottom lip and fixing his gaze on hers. "So tell me something, Annie."

"Anything," she said, pushing the plump strawberry poised on the end of her plastic fork into her mouth.

He watched her carefully. "How come you never got married?"

Annie matched his stare. "How come you never remarried?"

"Aw, come on, I asked you first."

Annie was thoughtful for a moment. The question was one she'd asked herself more than once and depending on how honest she felt, she always came up with two answers. She gave him the second one. "You know how it is. You get so wrapped up in the career that you forget to have a personal life. And when you do find someone you think you could spend the rest of your life with, you realize he can't take the hours you work."

Jim raised his eyebrows and nodded in agreement. "But there's another answer."

This time Annie raised her eyebrows, curious to know if perhaps he could read her mind. "And what's that?" she asked, almost hesitantly, before taking a sip of bubbly.

"You let the one person you think you could have spent the rest of your life with slip through your fingers."

Annie nearly choked on her champagne.

**oooooo**

Jim and Annie finished packing up the lunch basket then took a walk down to the bank of the river.

Looking at the way the sunlight reflected off the red rock of the canyon wall, Jim slipped his arm around Annie's waist. "Too bad we can't stay and watch the sunset. I bet it's beautiful."

She leaned into him and idly watched the water. "We can't?"

Jim shook his head. "No, they have strict rules about taking off at dusk. Charlie waits too long and we're camping out here."

"Maybe next time we should plan ahead and tell Charlie not to come back until the morning."

"You'd camp out here?" Jim never pegged Annie as the outdoorsy type. Although he could recall a couple of nights they had to sleep in a car, a parking lot didn't count.

"Sure. You, me, a couple of sleeping bags around a campfire, and the stars overhead." Annie looked up. "I bet the night sky here is amazing."

For a brief moment Jim flashbacked to the previous month when he'd found Grissom staring up at the night sky watching some meteor shower. Jim hadn't been impressed then but for Annie, he'd learn the names of all the constellations. "Why don't we plan for it?"

Annie twisted around in his grasp. "Are you serious?"

He nodded. "But does it have to be here?"

She gave him a knowing look. "Where do you have in mind?"

"Colorado, the Rockies. Would you believe I've never been?"

"I believe. I've never been either."

"I know a guy with a cabin in the mountains. He's always bugging me to use it. We could stay at his place a couple of nights and spend a night or two under the stars."

"You sold me. When do we go?"

"Late spring or maybe early summer? Give the place a chance to thaw out."

"You make the arrangements and I'll be there."

"You got a deal." Jim could hear the thundering sound of the approaching helicopter. "Looks like Charlie's back." They waited until the helicopter touched down and the dust settled before making their way up to the small plateau.

**oooooo**

The trip back to Las Vegas was spent mostly in silence. Jim cast an occasional glance at Annie, who stared out the window, mesmerized, no doubt, by the lights of the Strip. He needed to remember to thank her for suggesting they get away from the house. Even though the day had done wonders for his mood as they got closer to the neon glow of the city, he could feel the tension and anxiety return. Resting his head against the headrest, he closed his eyes and tried not to think about what tomorrow would bring. He failed miserably.

"Talk to me," Annie said once they had reached his car.

"I told you everything." He put the key in the ignition and slid the gearshift into drive.

"Something was going through your head on the way back."

Silently cursing at her ability to read him so clearly, he pursed his lips and decided he wasn't ready to tell her what was really on his mind. "I was just thinking how nice today was and that I needed to remember to thank you."

"Liar."

Jim's head snapped around but she wasn't looking at him, instead staring at the passing scenery.

"Jimmy," she said, slowly turning to look at him as he turned his attention back to the road. "I know it's been a lot of years but that doesn't change the fact that I know you. I know when something's on your mind and I can guess what it is."

"Ok, Kreskin, what is it?"

"You're not so much worried about the outcome as you are about having to walk through the corridors and face all those people who know what happened."

Rolling his eyes, he wondered if she'd always been like this. "You're wrong. That's not what I was thinking. I was thinking I should have left a light on in the house."

Annie shook her head. "Is that the best you got?"

He shrugged.

"We both know it's going to be rough tomorrow. I can understand being a little apprehensive. But you have to face them head on. You have to walk in there and show them that despite everything, you're still in charge."

Stopping at a red light, he leaned back in the seat, his head smacking against the headrest in exasperation. He didn't want to talk any more. He didn't want to tell her that he was embarrassed, that he was a seasoned cop, a captain, and this never should have happened to him. He worried that he might really be slipping, losing some of the edge that made him a good cop, slowing down and getting old. And if they did clear him, he'd have to prove himself all over again.

Gripping the steering wheel tightly, all the anger he'd felt towards himself boiled over. "Don't you think I know what I have to do? Just let it go, okay?" The light turned green and he hit the accelerator a little harder than he should have.

She slowly turned her attention back to the blurred neon lights. "Okay."

Immediately regretting his outburst, he reached over and took her hand, hoping to take away some of the sting. "Look Annie, I appreciate everything you've done for me. I mean, just the fact that you're here means more to me than I can say. But I have to deal with this on my own because in a day or two you're back in L.A. and I won't have you to lean on any more."

"You'll always have me to lean on, Jimmy."

"I know but you're talking figuratively." He smiled at her. "I mean literally." They were on Las Vegas Boulevard, stopped in traffic across from the Bellagio. "Ever seen the fountain show?"

"I saw them from the helicopter."

"Want to see it from the ground?"

"Sure."

Jim edged the car into the right lane then pulled into the parking garage behind Paris Hotel. He could hear the boom as the fountain show started and knew they'd miss this one but another would start in half an hour. That would give them plenty of time to park and get a prime spot. A flash of guilt crossed his mind as he and Annie made their way through the recreated streets of Paris, the casino, and then out to the bustling Vegas night. It was one thing to be miles away in the Grand Canyon and another to be in such a public place. Still, he thought, as they crossed the road with a crowd of tourists, even though he'd tried, he couldn't live his life as a hermit, shut up in his house with a couple of bottles of scotch. He had to keep going, keep living, keep doing his job, whatever that might be. And maybe after Thanksgiving he'd take Annie's advice and pay Tracy Bell a visit.

He found an out of the way spot along the walkway leading up to the hotel and checked his watch. They had another eight minutes until the show began and if the silence emanating from Annie was any indication, it was going to be a long eight minutes.

Jim rested his elbows on the concrete railing and clasped his hands together as he looked out over the still water. Annie faced the other way, her back to the railing and to him.

"I'm sorry. I was doing okay and then we got back to the city and it was like," he paused, looking up at the blinking lights of a passing helicopter, "all the shit came falling down again." He felt Annie's arm across his back, enveloping him in a hug.

"This is the part where you lean on me—literally."

Jim folded himself into her grasp as the music began to blare and the dancing water illuminated the night.

------

End of Part 3


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: A huge thank you to those who've left a review. I really appreciate it!

I probably should have posted this in two parts (4A and 4B) but I wanted to keep each part to a day in the life. So, yeah, this is really long. I hope you like it. Again, I get nothing from this but the joy of putting Jim Brass through some serious angst. And reuniting him with Annie Kramer. This part has some very naughty bits. It's rated M for a reason.

* * *

**Tuesday, November 22nd**

Annie awoke to the warmth of Jim's body spooned against hers. It felt nice to wake up knowing that for once she wasn't alone in the bed. They'd rarely had the opportunity to spend the entire night together but she'd slept with Jim enough to know that he liked contact. She knew he'd never admit it but he'd spent too many nights alone as well.

His hand slid over her side, resting against her ribs while his thumb stroked the curve of her right breast. She rolled over, still in his grasp.

"I could get used to this," he said, eyes still closed.

"What?" she asked, running her hand over his chest. "Playing with my tits?"

"No," he said, with a deep chuckle. "But that's always a plus. I was thinking more along the lines of waking up next to you."

She sighed happily. "Either way, you'll get no complaints from me."

He opened his eyes. "Think we could make it work?"

Annie had never really noticed how gray his eyes were. Blue-gray, that's how she would describe them. "How about we get through today?" Annie rested her hand on the side of his face, her thumb stroking his eyebrow. "Then we'll talk."

"Sure, sure," he said, rolling onto his back and covering his eyes with his arm.

Annie also rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling, wondering what her answer would be once they had that talk.

---

Jim waved off Annie's offer of breakfast but didn't turn down coffee. Sitting on the edge of the bed, his shirt unbuttoned and tie draped around his neck, he heard her call his name but he didn't answer. It didn't surprise him to hear her footsteps in the hallway a few minutes later.

"Nervous?" she asked, sitting next to him.

He stared at the wall. "Not really. Dread is more like it. It's one more time I have to relive that day; I just want to get it over with and move on."

"At least they didn't ice you a full week or more."

He grunted. "Yeah, I guess that should be a relief."

"Got any ideas what you'll do if it doesn't go your way?" Annie always had been a realist. Leave it to her to ask the hard question.

Jim hadn't really given it much thought over the last few days. The self-loathing part of him, the part that told him he didn't deserve to be a cop any more, almost welcomed a dismissal. But he knew that would be the easy way out: leave Vegas and never have to face all the accusing faces again. He felt the worst outcome would be another demotion. Being shot down to lieutenant or sergeant or even worse, pulling some sort of administration job again, would definitely give him cause to consider eating his gun. Still, he was resolved to accept his punishment and live with whatever came his way just like he'd live with what he'd done.

Annie was looking at him, waiting for an answer. "Maybe I'll take up knitting," he joked, repeating an answer she'd once given him.

"You don't have the patience." She raised his hand, pressing her palm against his. "Or the nimble fingers."

Jim let go of her hand and flexed his fingers. "You might be right. Maybe I'll get a job where I can saw things. Or punch them. Punching might be better."

She stood up and faced him, reaching out for the ends of his tie. "Come on, let's get some coffee in you."

Jim stood up and wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace. "Whatever happens, thank you for being here and for keeping me one step away from the cliché."

"The cliché." She narrowed her eyes. "The divorced alcoholic cop."

"That's the one." He pulled away from her and began fastening the buttons of his shirt.

Annie put her hands over his, stopping his progress. "You're not an alcoholic, Jimmy."

"Not for a lack of trying." He crossed one end of the tie over the other and began tying a Windsor knot. "You know that better than anyone."

Annie crossed her arms and shrugged. "Yeah, I do," she said, walking past him and out the bedroom door.

**oooooo**

Jim pulled into the LVPD parking space with his name stenciled in white letters and felt his heart trying to pound its way out of his chest. More than any other this was the moment he was dreading: the walk through the corridors. By now everyone knew he was the one who'd shot Bell. He was branded; he could already feel the bitter glances in his direction, the looks of contempt. The trust and respect he'd worked hard to earn was gone and no matter what the verdict, he wasn't sure he'd ever get it back.

He was deep within his own thoughts when Annie asked if he was ready, bringing him back to the surface with a sigh. "As I'll ever be." He opened the door and got out of the car.

Annie followed Jim into the Las Vegas Police Department, past reception and two uniformed officers who made a point of staring, and into Jim's darkened office.

Switching on the desk lamp, he held out his car keys. "You can hang here or if you get bored, you can cruise the strip."

Annie waved off the offer and began to peruse the awards and pictures decorating his office. "I'll hang here, thanks."

"Want a cup of coffee?"

"Is it as bad as the stuff we have?"

"The better brew is over at the crime lab. Our stuff will peel wallpaper."

"I'll take your stuff. I'm used to it."

Jim excused himself and made a dash down the corridor to the break room and the coffee pot, silently praying there would be coffee already made and he wouldn't run into anyone along the way. But footsteps on the linoleum told him to suck up his bravado and get ready for the first of the many run-ins he was expecting. Feeling a hand on his shoulder, he turned sharply, his defenses already bristling, and came face to face with Sofia Curtis. Blowing out a breath, he relaxed at the sight of the one ally he had.

"Hey, Jim, how are you?" It was a simple question but he could tell by the emotions playing over her face that her concern was genuine.

He stared into the empty Styrofoam cup in his hand. "Thought I was doing a little better until I got here."

"I tried to call you a couple of times. I even asked Grissom for your address so I could stop by but he said I should probably give you some space."

"Yeah, I wasn't very nice to be around those first few days." Jim poured coffee into the cup then added in two creams.

She frowned. "Since when do you take cream in your coffee?"

"A friend of mine from L.A. Came in with me for moral support."

"Brave soul, trying our coffee."

"She's used to this swill." Brass didn't miss the brief flash across Sofia's face. What was it? Curiosity…or jealousy?

"Well, I'm heading back to my desk, how about I run interference for you?"

"I'd appreciate it." Jim walked with Sofia down the corridor, passing one uniformed officer who blatantly avoided eye contact. Opening the door and following Sofia inside, he handed the cup to Annie then made the introductions.

Taking the coffee from Jim, Annie stepped forward to exchange a firm handshake with the blonde. "Nice to meet you."

"Jim tells me you're from L.A.?" Sofia cocked her head. "But isn't that a New Jersey accent I hear?"

Annie smiled, obviously as impressed as Jim was by the woman's sharp ear. "We used to work together back in Newark."

"Oh, so you're in law enforcement too?"

"Sorry, I should have said Captain Annie Kramer, LAPD." Glancing between the two women, Jim had the feeling that there was some sort of possessive undercurrent going on and Annie's hand brushing against the back of his shoulder seemed to support it.

"Well, I guess I better get back to work." Sofia stepped forward, resting her hand on Jim's arm as she shook his hand. "Good luck."

He gave her a hopeful smile and after she'd left the office, turned to Annie. "If she had been the one, I'm not sure she would have made it this far."

"She would have had you."

Jim wasn't sure what to make of Annie's comment and started to ask only to be interrupted by a knock at the door.

Nestor Ortega, the IA detective who handled Brass's initial statement, who was so sure Brass made a bad shoot, appeared at Jim's door. "Captain Brass, will you come with me," he said quickly, then took a step back and waited outside.

Jim took a deep, steadying breath and gave Annie a resigned raise of his eyebrows.

"Good luck," he heard Annie say as he disappeared out the door.

Brass walked down the corridor with his back straight and his chin up, trying like hell to look like a confident man and praying no one saw through the disguise.

**oooooo**

"Captain Kramer, nice to see you again!"

Startled, Annie looked up from the book she'd taken from Jim's bookcase to see a familiar face. "Warrick Brown." Getting up from the sofa, she extended her hand. "Please, call me Annie."

Gripping her hand firmly in his, Warrick grinned. "I'm glad you got my message."

Annie leaned against the edge of the desk. "Thanks for calling."

The CSI leaned against the door. "Yeah, well, I had to do something. How's Jim doing? I guess he's with the board now."

"I think it's safe to say he's had better days but he's doing okay."

"Thanks to you, no doubt." Warrick's gaze was intense. "Brass is stubborn, one of those old-school types who thinks he can handle everything on his own."

Annie smiled. "You know him very well."

"I'd say I know him a little better than most."

There was something cryptic in his words but Annie wasn't sure what it was. Crossing her arms, she shrugged and said, "You probably know him better than I do."

Warrick laughed dryly. "Oh, I doubt that." He gave her another long, focused look before finally speaking. "You know, seeing the two of you together in L.A., it wasn't hard to figure out there was something between you."

"It was that obvious?"

"It was that obvious."

"I hadn't seen Jimmy in fifteen years. It was good to see him again, even if the circumstances weren't the best." Warrick already seemed to know their past entailed more than friendship but Annie wasn't one to confess pieces of her personal life, even if he did have the most amazing green eyes.

"I know Jim appreciated your help then and I'm sure he's glad you're here for him now." His cell phone chirped with an incoming text. Checking the screen, he sighed. "Looks like I gotta run. Nice to see you again." His hand brushed the doorframe as he exited the office.

"Warrick," Annie called, causing him to stop and look back into the office. "Thanks for looking out for him."

A smile flashed across his face. "Any time."

**oooooo**

"Captain Brass, we have reviewed the evidence presented by Dr. Grissom and we have read your account of the shooting as well as the IA report."

Jim sat impossibly still as he listened to Sheriff Ben Burdick tell him he'd been cleared of any negligence. He could feel the moisture gather in the corner of his left eye and dipped his head momentarily before looking up again. It wasn't over by any means. He would live with the guilt; he would be reminded every time he drew his weapon, every time he passed through the intersection of Jefferson and Third…every time he saw the honor wall and the plaque with Bell's name and badge. He would pray that he could put it all behind him and move on but he knew it would be with him until he drew his last breath.

The men who sat across the table from him knew it too. They knew he was a good, honest cop who would have to live with the "unfortunate chain of events" that resulted in Daniel Bell's death. And they knew that was punishment enough.

Brass was suddenly aware that the sheriff was standing next to him. Slowly getting to his feet, he still felt numb

"These belong to you, Jim." Burdick held out his badge and holstered gun. "Take an extra day and report back Thursday night."

Brass accepted the badge and turned it over in his hand, running his thumb over the smooth surface before tucking it into his pocket and taking his weapon from Burdick. Clipping the holster onto his belt, he felt the familiar weight on his hip and quickly realized the last time he'd felt its weight was _that_ day.

"Thanks, Ben." While Jim shook hands with the sheriff, he caught sight of Ortega as he left the room. Judging by the scowl on the IA man's face, it was obvious he didn't agree with the outcome. Jim was thankful the man wasn't part of the review board.

Alone in the room, Brass rested his hands on the back of the chair and exhaled deeply. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel. Happy? Relieved? He knew he was emotionally drained and tired. Very, very tired. But Annie was waiting in his office and the thought of her, of knowing he wouldn't be going home to an empty house, gave him the energy he needed to pull open the door and hold his head a little higher as he walked down the corridor.

---

Annie set aside the book and checked the time. Jimmy had been gone over an hour and she took that as a good thing. Longer was always better. It meant they hadn't come to a pre-determined decision and instead were weighing all the evidence.

She truly wanted this to go his way but gave some thought to what might happen if it didn't. If he lost his job, they might actually have a chance at a future together. She could probably convince him to leave Vegas behind and come to L.A. and start a new life with her. It was a selfish idea but one she couldn't seem to push from her thoughts. Then again, fifteen years was a long time and Annie wasn't completely convinced he felt the same way about her that she did about him. He could still see her as nothing more than friend with benefits. The one he called in a crisis and then cast aside when it was over. That was certainly how she'd felt back in April. And after seeing him with Sofia Curtis, Annie wondered if that wasn't how this would end. She'd definitely felt something when Sofia was in the office and that something was enough to make Annie want to stand her ground.

Jimmy had never really been hers and she never had any misgivings about that. But the last few days had changed the way she felt. Maybe it was seeing him at his most vulnerable, needing her in a way he never had before, or maybe it was watching him interact with another woman, but whatever the reason, Annie felt possessive and jealous and ready to battle.

Her moment of reverie was interrupted by the echo of weary footsteps outside the door. It was uncanny how she knew it was him just by the sound of his walk. And even though years of being a cop made her more attune to the details, in this particular instance she put it down to knowing the man.

"Hey," he said, resting his shoulder against the doorframe and making Annie wonder if that was the only thing holding him up. He reached into his pocket and took out the badge, holding it up for her to see.

Annie didn't allow the twinge of disappointment to reach her eyes as she got up from the sofa. "When do you start back?"

He pushed off from the doorframe, tucking the badge back into his pocket as he came inside and shut the door. "Thursday night."

She held out her arms and he melted into her grasp. "So we have a little time left," she whispered to him.

His chin rested on her shoulder. "I was hoping you'd say that."

"Ready to go home?" Annie was acutely aware of the blonde detective's watchful gaze from the other side of the glass windows.

"Yeah, just give me a minute." He broke the embrace and left the office and motioned for Sofia. Annie stood in the doorway, arms crossed as she watched the two. She couldn't hear the conversation but the look on Sofia's face told Annie everything she needed to know. Fortunately, Jim seemed to be oblivious.

**oooooo**

The drive home was quiet with most of the conversation limited to a few details about the review board's decision. He wasn't completely forthcoming and Annie could tell by the fixed look in his eyes that he'd said all he wanted on the subject.

It wasn't until they pulled into his driveway and exited the car that he finally spoke again.

"So I was wondering," Jim began, resting his arms on the roof of the car and looking across at Annie, "if you'd like to go out with me?"

Annie was curious where this was going. They were long past the dating stage but when she thought about it, apart from their little foray to Grand Canyon, an actual date was something they'd never done. "You're asking me out?"

"I am. Don't know if you're aware but we have a few shows here in Vegas. Maybe dinner first? What do you say?"

She leaned forward, also resting her hands on the roof, mirroring his stance. "Well, I don't know. I don't generally date detectives."

"Really?" He dipped his head and looked at her from beneath his brows. "How about making an exception for a nice guy?"

"Nice guy, huh? What about afterwards? If the date doesn't go well, it could be awkward."

"I promise the date will go well." He came around the back of the car and waited for her to join him. "I promise that by the end of the night, you'll be thanking me personally."

She slowly walked around to meet him, looking at him with one eyebrow raised. "Oh, yeah? You seem awfully sure of yourself."

He flashed the first genuine smile she'd seen since she'd been in Vegas.

Annie smiled to herself as she followed him up the porch steps and waited while he unlocked the front door. "All right," she sighed dramatically, "I'll go out with you. Can we see one of the Cirque shows?"

Jim tossed his keys onto the dining room table and shrugged off his jacket, hanging it over the back of a chair, then loosened his tie and unfastened a couple of buttons. "Anyone you want," he said, heading into the kitchen. "I haven't seen any of them."

She shook her head. "And you've lived here how long?"

He emerged from the kitchen and handed her a cold bottle of water. Falling onto the sofa, he looked up at her. "Ever been on one of those studio tours?" he asked, pulling his tie free then tossing it onto the coffee table.

She sat down next to him and raised her bottle. "Touché."

---

Brass made dinner reservations at a little Italian place not too far off the Strip and got tickets to the late showing of "O". Then he stripped down to his shorts and crashed onto the bed. A few minutes later Annie joined him.

"When did you start wearing these?" she asked, snapping the waistband of his underwear.

He winced in mock pain. "I don't know—a few years ago, I guess."

"I like them."

"Good to know." He ran his fingers under the lace of her low-rise panties. "I like yours too."

She'd wanted to ask him about Sofia but his hand still lingered inside her panties, seeking and finding all the right places. Her thoughts centered only on the pleasure of being touched so skillfully.

"I'll admit it's been a while," she stretched languidly in his grasp, allowing him complete access, "but I think sex comes at the end of the date."

He brushed aside her hair and nipped at the soft skin below her ear. "Call it a preview."

"I thought you were tired," she said, letting him slide the tank top over her head and toss it aside.

"I was." His breath was hot against her skin, his kisses moist and deliberate, making her tingle with electricity.

She slid one hand between them, down his stomach to his groin, exploring the growing hardness pressing against her. Annie gently cupped his balls, hearing his sharp intake of breath, and stroked the length of him through the taut cotton fabric. His hips moved and pressed against her hand while his tongue teased first one nipple, then the other.

Annie tugged on the elastic band, sliding the briefs over his hips and down his thighs until she cleared one foot then the other. While he watched, his hooded eyes heavy with arousal, she stood up and glided the panties down her long legs. Stepping out of them, she crawled across the bed and met him in the middle for hot, probing kisses.

"God, you're beautiful," he whispered against her neck just before he gently pushed her onto her back. Starting at her breasts, he deliberately traced a finger down her center to the crease above her pubic bone, letting her know that he was going to take his time.

She watched him maneuver to the foot of the bed, his dark hair standing out against her pale skin and the white sheets. Annie raised her arms over her head and buried her hands under the pillow as he pushed open her legs and trailed kisses along the inside of her thighs, alighting her with anticipation of what was to come and making her grateful she'd kept a regular waxing appointment.

With one hand planted in the small of her back, keeping her close as she writhed in his grasp, his other hand held her right thigh, holding her leg in place as his tongue and lips did tantalizing things to her clitoris. His hand slid down from her back, trailed over her ass and the back of her thigh, and lifted her leg over his shoulder so he could launch a clear assault on her. Annie couldn't control her hands, first running them over his head, fondling the tops of his ears and then digging her fingers into the sides of the mattress before finally settling on the mahogany slats of the headboard. She wiggled, squirmed and shut her eyes tight, and when his thick finger slipped inside her and deftly explored the existence of the G spot, it sent intense ripples up her spine, forcing her to buck her hips up at him. He withdrew his finger and ran it along her wetness, gently rubbing her clitoris with his thumb as he slid two fingers inside.

Annie couldn't deny the inherently primeval responses Jim drew from her body. It had always been obvious that he knew what he was doing but he'd never made a point of telling her. He was all about showing her; about giving her such intense pleasure that he'd spoiled her for other men. Maybe that was his intention.

She trusted him to take care of her needs this time, to see her to the end, but her body was aching. "Jimmy, please," she pleaded, briefly letting go of the slats long enough to see him hovering over her and glimpse the strength of his erection before grabbing hold again. "Please, I want you now."

Rolling onto his back, he reached out for her.

Annie knew what he wanted, what she desperately wanted, and didn't hesitate. His broad hands gripped her hips as she settled astride him, reveling in the deep, satisfying feel of him and the intense contact against her clitoris.

Setting her own pace, Annie rode him slowly at first, taking him ever deeper while Jim moved with her, working harmoniously as experienced lovers while the friction between them created a heated, musky air-filling scent. Annie increased the tempo and Jim matched her pace, their breaths coming out in quick, harsh bursts until everything became primitive and urgent and nothing was important but the growing pressure within her. Seeking and finding his hand, she laced her fingers with his and gripped his hand with white-knuckled strength as her body began to quake. The wave hit her hard, her internal muscles contracting as the climax made her cry out. She slumped forward against him, releasing his hand so she could embrace him as he rolled her onto her back. It only took a few powerful strokes before he'd choked back his own release and her hand was once again locked in a steeled grip.

Dimly, she became aware of the still pulsing throb between her legs, of the hairs on his chest tickling her skin, and of the pounding of his heart, matching her own. But mostly she became aware that she loved him, deeply and wholly, and knew she'd do whatever it took to overcome distance and a younger woman named Sofia Curtis to keep him.

"Thank you," she whispered, trailing kisses from his jaw to his neck, knowing that she'd just affirmed what he'd said earlier. "That was some preview."

---

Jim kissed Annie on the shoulder then slipped out of bed and crossed to the bathroom, aware that she was probably staring at his bare ass. Not bothering to flip on a light, he rinsed out his mouth and splashed cold water over his face. Staring at his darkened, dripping reflection, he tried to shrug off the feeling that he'd just celebrated his exoneration and in doing so had done a disservice to Bell's memory. But here were no rules for how to live his life now. No one was there to condemn him for having sex. So why did he now feel so consumed by guilt?

Opening the door, seeing the smile still on Annie's face, he crawled into the cold space next to her. "Was this wrong?" he asked, giving voice to his thoughts.

"Was what wrong?"

"What we just did?" He couldn't bring himself to say the word. "After this morning it doesn't seem right."

Annie rested her hand on the middle of his chest. "Do you think you're dishonoring Bell or his wife by having sex?"

The resounding silence was her answer.

"Jimmy, I understand if you feel like they let you off easy but you can't punish yourself by depriving yourself of a life. You didn't intentionally shoot that man. It was an accident, recoil from a bullet that hit his vest and put him in your line of fire. Given the circumstances, it could have happened to anyone."

He wanted to say that it didn't happen to anyone, it happened to him, but he let it go. He knew Annie was right; that he was dwelling on something he had to let go.

Annie crawled over him and sat on the edge of the bed. "Why don't we cancel tonight?" she asked, looking back at him over her shoulder.

He ran the back of his hand down her spine. "No," he answered without hesitating. "I need to put it behind me and move on."

She leaned around and kissed him before heading to the bathroom, leaving him to admire her bare ass.

**oooooo**

The restaurant was a little hole in the wall place situated in a strip mall off Flamingo.

"It's not fancy like some of the places in the hotels but the food is excellent, it's cozy, and most of the tourists won't venture this far off the strip." Opening the door, Jim followed Annie inside. "Reservation for Brass," he said to the young woman working the hostess stand.

They were led to a table in a quiet corner, away from the noise of the bar and the din of the dining room. Annie ordered a glass of Pinot grigio, knowing it would probably give her a headache later, while Jim had a beer and over the mozzarella caprese, she brought up something he'd mentioned that morning.

"You asked me this morning if we could make it work."

"Yeah," he brought the beer to his lips, "and you blew me off," and took a drink.

"I didn't blow you off. I said we'd talk about it later. This is later."

Setting the glass down, he dragged the back of his finger over his upper lip. "And?"

"Do you still feel the same way?"

"Yeah, I do. I mean, if the date goes okay and all." The hint of laughter in his eyes gave away his serious demeanor.

Annie leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table and clasping her hands. Her gaze holding his, she said, "I think the date is just a formality at this point."

He smiled and blushed at the same time.

"Here's the thing, Jimmy. I think we're good together—and I'm not just talking about in bed. But the key word here is _together_. Distance relationships are hard and we already have too much working against us." She watched his body language change, watched him sit back in his chair and drape one arm over the empty chair next to him. To the casual diner it might have looked like Jimmy was open and receptive to what she was saying but Annie knew otherwise. His eyes gave him away every time.

"So what are you telling me? If you're in L.A. and I'm here, it'll never work?"

"I'm telling you," she paused as the waiter arrived at the table with their food then leaned forward. "I know you, Jimmy. When you get down, you need someone to physically lean on and when that happens, I can't just jump in the car and drive across town. I'm telling you that until you figure out what you want, there can't be a relationship, distance or otherwise."

His brow knitted. "What do you mean, _figure out what I want_? I know what I want. I want you."

"Jimmy, I don't doubt that you know what you want right here, right now but what about tomorrow or the next day? I won't be here and you'll be on your own and there's a young woman working with you who's more than willing to take my place."

His expression slowly changed from confusion to disbelief. "Young woman, do you mean Sofia?"

Annie gave a slight shrug and picked up her fork and knife. "Yes, Sofia. It's obvious she has feelings for you. And," she cut her chicken, "I'm not so sure you don't feel something for her."

Jim didn't offer any excuses. Looking down at his plate, he picked up his fork and cut a piece of ravioli in half. "After the shooting, Sofia and I had to wait for IA to come and talk to us. I'd been through it before so I knew what to expect but she was a mess. I felt bad for her, especially after she'd been put through the wringer. I wanted to give her a shoulder to lean on but she turned me down. The next day, I got a call from her. She was upset and needed to talk so I met her for coffee. She was convinced she'd shot Bell, so much so that she'd recreated the whole thing in her head. Well, we both know what happened now but at the time, she was so sure it was her and I was pretty convinced as well. I was worried about her. She's young, new to being a detective and under a lot of pressure from her mother to climb the ladder. The thought that she might eat a bullet crossed my mind a couple of times. I wanted to help her." He speared the ravioli with his fork and held it in mid air. "I'll be honest, the thought that maybe, you know, there could be something did cross my mind once or twice but I'm her captain. I can't get involved." He shoved the pasta into his mouth.

Annie cocked an eyebrow. "You couldn't get involved with me either but you did."

Jim stopped chewing and swallowed. "As far as I know, Sofia sees me as some sort of pathetic charity case that she feels sorry for. Last thing I need is a sexual harassment lawsuit."

Annie reached across the table and put her hand on his. "Stop with the pity party. Trust me, she doesn't see you like that."

He looked up, his eyes hooded and skeptical. "How do you know?"

"Because I know that look. It's the same look I had around you." It was on the tip of her tongue to say it was also because Sofia reminded her of a younger version of herself but that might have put the wrong idea in his head.

The familiar flash of guilt crossed his face. "It's not the same thing. Not for me anyway. When I'm around Sofia, all my protective instincts kick in but I don't love her," his voice trailed off and he quickly looked down at his plate.

It was what he didn't say that made Annie smile but it didn't take away her worry. And now seemed like as good a time as any to lay her cards on the table and tell him exactly what did bother her. "I believe you, Jimmy, but I was the other woman once before; I won't make that mistake again. I need something more from you. I left New Jersey and it took fifteen years for you to call me. And even then it was only because your kid was in trouble and you needed my help. What kind of reassurances do I have that the minute I leave here, you won't completely forget about me until the next crisis comes your way?"

"Well, that should be soon enough. My whole life is a crisis." He smirked as he stuffed another piece of ravioli into his mouth.

Rolling her eyes as she sipped her wine, she took a bite of her chicken and thought about how much she'd like to break his nose again. Only this time it would be completely pre-meditated.

Resting his fork on the side of his plate, he leaned across the take and placed his hand on hers. "Look, I get what you're saying but I don't know what to tell you. You already said a distance relationship is hard."

"I love you, Jimmy. I really do. But I need to know that you love me and that when I'm not around to give you what you need, you won't go somewhere else."

He sat back and picked up his fork again, running the prongs through the sauce. "That's the root of it, isn't it? If I cheated once, I can do it again."

"No, the root of it is that I never want you to break my heart again." In the span of their conversation, the hard truth muscled itself to the front of Annie's mind. As much as they both seemed to want it, they just didn't have a future together—not at a distance anyway.

"So that's it then?" He could have been angry or hurt but the look in his eyes conveyed nothing but disappointment. She'd wanted to know that he loved her; she couldn't have gotten a clearer message.

"You know, Jimmy, maybe we should just play to our strengths. No strings attached. And if Sofia Curtis or any other woman decides they can offer you the kind of comfort that I can't, then don't turn her away." Although the words had sounded good in her head, she didn't realize how hard it would be to actually say them. Annie didn't want to give up on a relationship so easily but she was a realist. She knew the limitations would be almost impossible to overcome.

Jim raised his eyebrows and nodded. It was obvious he didn't like it but he didn't argue. Instead, he effectively changed the subject. "So does this mean I'm taking Sofia Curtis or one of those other women to Colorado?"

His smug look made her laugh and roll her eyes. "I don't care if you're married, Colorado is our trip. Look, I'm not saying when I leave tomorrow I walk out of your life forever. I'm saying I don't think a long distance relationship will work."

He lifted the glass to his lips, pausing to say, "I hope this doesn't mean phone sex is out?"

Annie leaned forward slightly and spoke in a conspiring whisper. "Jimmy, you can talk dirty to me any time you want."

Given the way the deep rumble of his laughter made her toes tingle, she was already looking forward to their first call.

**oooooo**

Jim spent the fifteen minute drive from the restaurant to the Bellagio thinking about their conversation at the restaurant. While he wished she'd change her mind, he knew she was right about a long distance relationship. But that wasn't what he kept replaying in his head over and over.

"I'm sorry," he said, watching as the last pedestrian cleared the crosswalk before turning right.

Annie looked over at him, curiously.

"I'm sorry for breaking your heart."

She gave his thigh a gentle squeeze. "It's okay."

"No, it's not."

"Jimmy, you don't need to apologize."

As he turned right turn onto the Bellagio drive and opted for the parking garage instead of valet, he wanted to tell her he did. Apologizing was one of the few things he could do relatively well.

Jim pulled into a parking space and cut then engine then turned to look at Annie. "So all's forgiven?" He tried to keep his tone light but the question, more importantly, her answer was important to him.

Annie put her hand on his cheek. "I forgave you a long time ago." Her hand slipped to the back of his neck, her fingers stroking his hair.

He leaned forward, meeting her halfway for a kiss. The awkward hug that followed elicited a fit of giggles from Annie when he nearly strangled himself with the seatbelt.

They arrived over an hour early for the show and spent most of the time wandering through the conservatory and botanical gardens, still decorated with all the colors of a New Jersey fall.

"I miss the leaves turning," Annie said, hooking her arm through his as they walked past a wooden bridge and babbling brook. "This place makes me a little homesick."

"But you'll get over it."

"Yeah, if they piped in that bone-numbing winter wind, I'd be over it in a heartbeat."

Jim took Annie by the tallest and largest chocolate fountain in the world before heading over to the theater just as they'd opened the doors. Looking around the crowd of anonymous faces, Jim suddenly felt conspicuous, as if any moment someone would step forward and chastise him for being with Annie. Feeling Annie's hand slip into his, she must have sensed his apprehension.

Finding their front row balcony seats, Jim relaxed once the lights finally dimmed and the show started.

Annie was completely amazed by the performance while Jim was reminded of how flexible Asian women were. He made a point of not sharing that little recollection with Annie, even if it had occurred some thirty-five years ago. She didn't need to know that this knowledge had come with a case of the clap.

"So what was it about?" he asked, his hand against the small of her back, guiding her through the crowd.

"I have no idea. But I loved it."

"Maybe it was supposed to be some sort of wild acid-induced dream."

"But did you enjoy it?"

"Are you kidding? A good hour and forty-five minutes of humidity in this town is worth the ticket price."

Escaping the show crowd, they strolled through the casino on the way to the lobby. Jim recognized a few faces on the floor—he knew all the pit bosses and floor managers at the big casinos. The Bellagio, even with all its imported marble and Dale Chihuly art, wasn't beyond its share of crime.

"Want to try your luck?" he asked, nodding at the craps table. "It's the only game in this town where the odds are in your favor."

"Why's that?"

"No house edge."

Watching an older man roll the dice, they stopped long enough to see him lose.

"I think I'll pass." Giving his arm a squeeze, Annie whispered in his ear, "I'd rather try my luck elsewhere."

They meandered through the massive lobby, only a scattering of people checking in while men in expensive suits and ladies in sleek dresses headed to the clubs. "You think you're getting lucky twice today?"

"Technically, it's tomorrow." Annie's hand slipped down his back until her hand rested on his ass.

"I think your odds just improved."

**oooooo**

Waiting at the light that would put them onto Las Vegas Boulevard, Annie watched the passing tourists, still in abundance at nearly one in the morning. "Next time I'm in Vegas, how about we spend a night here?"

"Next time you're out here, huh? I like the sound of that." Jim took a left and for once had to navigate through very little traffic. "So what's a room at the Bellagio got that my place doesn't?"

"A big Jacuzzi tub."

Brass glanced over and caught her sly smile out of the corner of his eye. "Hey, remember that little hotel off the Jersey turnpike?"

"The bathtub! I had a faucet imprint in the middle of my back for a year."

"I was singing soprano for a week." Contrary to what many might have thought his balls were not made of brass.

"Not one of our best ideas."

Jim rubbed his nose, still cringing. "No, it wasn't. Kind of put me off doubles in the tub for a long time. Showers are a lot safer."

"Only if you're a guy. You've obviously never been dropped."

Jim merged onto the I-15, chuckling at the visual. "Tell me that didn't happen to you."

"It was in college. My only consolation is that it happened in a tub instead of a shower stall so when he dropped me, he fell over the side. There we were: both of us flat on our asses, feet up in the air, the shower curtain torn off the rod, and water running all over the place."

Brass was laughing hard as he exited the interstate. "Now that's a mental picture I'll never get out of my head."

"Come on, you've never had a bad sex experience?"

"Just that time you tried to mangle my fellas with your knee. I thought I was going to throw up."

"It did kill the moment, didn't it?"

"I spent the next three days planted in the recliner with an ice pack on my nuts."

"How'd you explain that one to Nancy?"

"Same as the broken nose: busted a load of tweaker trash and one of them got in a lucky punch." Jim checked his blind spot and changed lanes, easing into the left turn lane and stopping at the red light. "You know, he said, glancing over at her, "with the exception of Ellie being born, all my best memories of Jersey are with you." The red light switched to a green arrow and Jim made the turn, grinning in the darkness. "Even when you were busting my nose and my nuts."

"That doesn't say much about your best memories." Annie watched the blur of porch lights from the residential neighborhood, recognizing the stucco house on the corner of Jim's street. "Did I ever tell you I almost got married?"

Jim looked over at her, her face intermittently lit by streetlights. "No, you never told me."

"His name was Gordon and he was a cop. He used to come into this restaurant I worked at while I was a freshman in college. He'd tell me all these great stories about being a Road Dawg. I loved all of it so when he asked me out, I accepted. We dated through my college years and after graduation, he talked me into joining New Jersey's finest. Got accepted to the academy and my first assignment was North Bergen. Gordon transferred, we got engaged, I got a wedding dress and we bought a house. Then I got cold feet and backed out of it."

Jim pulled into the driveway and rolled to a stop in front of the garage. "Is that why you came to Newark?"

"You think turning in a bunch of dirty cops makes you unpopular, trying ditching a cop at the altar." Annie opened the car door and got out, then waited for Jim.

Annie went inside first with Jim hanging back by the door. Dropping his keys onto the table, he made no effort to move, choosing instead to hang back and observe. He loved how her presence had brought warmth to his home that had long been missing. Already the sense of loneliness and the loss of comfort had begun to creep back into his life, making him dread the days ahead.

"Everything okay?" she asked, crossing her arms and giving him a concerned tilt of her head.

Jim smiled. "Yeah, everything's fine. I just never…" His voice trailed off with the shake of his head. "I love you."

Annie walked towards him. Grabbing the lapels of his jacket, she said, "I know." She gently pressed her lips to his, speaking just before she kissed him. "Took you long enough to say it."

Touching his forehead to hers, he said, "I always was a little slow. I wish you could stick around a little longer."

"I wish I could stick around a little longer too but you know how it is."

Recalling the grief he got for taking extended leave to help out Ellie, he smirked. "Yeah, I know."

Jim wrapped his arms around her and realized this was how he wanted to spend the last night with her. He wanted to hold her as close as he possibly could and never let her go. She'd been his lifeline, bringing him out of the dark hole he'd fallen into and putting him back on level ground, and without her he was scared to death. Long nights and one bad case, another shoot-out, a look or whisper from one of the uniforms, and it would be so easy to fall into that hole again. He didn't want to think about where he'd be right now if she hadn't come.

"Jimmy, can I get a couple of aspirin from you?"

"Sure," he said, giving her a concerned frown. "Headache?"

"Not yet but heading that way," she said, rubbing her right temple.

"In my bathroom, take a look in the medicine cabinet. I'll get you some water." While she headed down the hall, Brass went into the kitchen. Opening the cabinet and taking out a glass, he caught sight of the bottle of scotch tucked away on the top shelf. Reaching for the nearly empty bottle, he unscrewed the cap and poured out the contents, watching the amber liquid disappear down the drain. Inhaling the familiar aroma, he knew it was a pointless gesture. There were at least a half dozen liquor stores on his way home and he'd become a regular at a few of them over the years.

Putting the empty bottle in the recycle bin, Jim filled the glass with cold water and headed down the hall.

**oooooo**

Annie walked out of the bathroom, a brown bottle in her hand. "So how long have you been taking these?"

Standing next to the bed, pulling his t-shirt over his head, Jim paused long enough to identify the bottle as his _Ambien_ prescription. "Six months maybe." He tossed the shirt into the hamper just inside the closet.

"You were having trouble—before all this, I mean?" Annie could sympathize. She'd had her share of sleepless nights over the years but she also knew how easy it was to become dependant on the pills.

Unfastening his trousers, he paused long enough to explain. "Last spring we had a pretty tough case involving one of the guys from the crime lab. I had a little trouble sleeping after that so I went to the doctor and he gave me a prescription. I only took a few and then I didn't need them any more. But after the shooting, well, you know what happened." He slipped off his trousers and neatly lined up the creases as he walked into the closet. "So I started taking them again."

"Do they work?" she asked, admiring the way the muscles in his back flexed as he reached for a wooden hanger.

"They help." Stepping out of the closet, he shut the door. "On a good morning I can usually get four or five hours of sleep but these knock me out for a solid eight."

Even though he was wearing his boxers, it took all her self control to keep her eyes focused above his waist and her voice stern. "You took these the last couple of nights, didn't you?"

"I might have."

Annie rolled her eyes. "You took these on top of all that alcohol? Jimmy, you know better than that."

"Knowing better wasn't high on my list a couple of nights ago."

"Think you'll still need them?"

He was standing directly in front of her now, his hand gently brushing the hair away from her neck. "I hope not but I'm not getting rid of them." Leaning forward, he planted a trail of kisses along her jaw down to her neck. "I'll just try to know better next time."

Annie slid her hands over his cotton-covered ass, giving his cheeks a nice squeeze. "You're not getting off that easy."

"Getting off at my age is never easy."

"Oh, that's right," she said, pulling away from him, "play the age card. You're not that old, Jim."

Jim held her at arm's length and smiled.

"What?"

"I think that's the first time you've ever called me Jim."

Her finger traced the edges of the tattoo on his right shoulder. "I guess I finally realized you're not Jimmy any more."

"Jim won't take you for granted like Jimmy did."

Shaking her head, she bit back her skepticism. "Alright, _Jim_, how about we go to bed?"

Jim broke the embrace and started for the bathroom. "How's the head?"

Annie crawled under the covers and watched Jim's profile as he brushed his teeth. "Still hanging around." She turned down the sheet on his side of the bed. "You, uh, taking your sleeping pill tonight?"

Jim rinsed out his mouth and dried his hands, then turned off the light. "No, I thought I'd take my chances." He slipped into bed next to her. "You sure you don't want to sleep in the other room?"

Despite the smile and the cocked eyebrow he flashed her, Annie knew he wasn't joking. She also knew he needed to break his dependency on sleeping pills. "I'll take my chances too." His arm slipped around her shoulders as she snuggled against him. She wasn't sure if it was the nap she'd had earlier or the headache but now that she was in bed, she wasn't as tired as she thought she was. "Are you asleep?"

"No."

"Can I ask you a question?" She felt his hand on her head, his fingers slowly massaging her scalp. Closing her eyes, she breathed out a contented sigh.

"You can ask me anything."

"What went down with Mike and his crew?"

Jim stopped rubbing her head and for a moment, Annie wondered if he'd fallen asleep.

"What do you know about it?" he asked, finally.

"Not a lot—just that you busted Mike and his crew. " Annie rolled onto her side and ran her hand across his chest, stopping long enough to stroke the thicker patch of hairs running down the middle of his stomach. "Look, it's okay if you don't want to talk about it now."

Jim ran his hand over his mouth and exhaled loudly. "There was this homeless guy, Gary, used to hang around Tank's hoping for a hand-out. One night he sees one of Mike's crew tuning up a snitch out back. Only he doesn't know it's one of Mike's guys. So Gary goes to tell Mike and Mike says he'll take care of it. Next thing Gary's at the station on a vagrancy charge. Now me and most of the cops over there know Gary because we've seen him hanging out around Tank's, maybe palm him a couple of bucks a few times. So I'm talking to Gary and next thing I know, Mike's quizzing me. By this time I know about the shit that's going down: threatening pimps for a percent of the take in exchange for a blind eye, skimming drugs from the busts and selling them on the side, but I'm keeping my mouth shut." Jim's voice dripped with disdain. "I'm following the code."

Annie knew all about the Code. Jim might have been talking Newark PD but the Code, the unspoken understanding among cops that no matter what happens, a cop doesn't turn on one of their own, extended to every police department across the country.

"A couple of days after Gary was released, he's on life support, the victim of a major beat down and wouldn't you know, Meggett and Lisano, two of Mike's guys, just happened to be on the scene. Said they tried to break up the fight except their story wasn't adding up and I knew it. They were giving me a few veiled threats, telling me what happens to cops who go against cops. I guess that was the last straw for me. I knew about Mike and Nancy. I knew he was Ellie's father. I got fed up with always looking the other way—at home, at work. So I went to IA."

"And someone snitched you out." She stifled a yawn then smiled when Jim did the same.

"Yeah, it was like an arctic wind blew through whenever I walked down the corridor. O'Toole had a lot of friends and McClusky was afraid I'd get the 3am call-out to a drug den."

"And your back-up gets sent to the wrong address. You had to leave."

"The city, the county, the tri-state area. They gave me a commendation and a transfer, all in the same day. Two days later, I was on my way to Vegas."

She thought about the icy reception he'd received at the station that morning. "You sure you'll be okay here?"

"I'll be okay. It'll take a little while for the temperature to warm up but the circumstances are different. This time I know I'll have guys watching my back."

Annie lifted up and kissed him, mostly getting his lower lip and chin on her first attempt in the darkness. The second attempt found its mark.

"What was that for?"

"Being brave." She rolled onto her side and hoped that he'd do the same.

"I wasn't brave. I was fed up."

Twisting around, she spoke over her shoulder, "I said it before and I'll say it again. It took a lot of guts to do what you did."

She felt the breath of his harrumph on the back of her neck and fell asleep with the weight of his arm draped over her side.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** So here it is, the end of the story. This thing took me so long to write but such a short time to post. I'm kind of sad to see it end but anxious to get on to the next fic. A word of warning: this has more naughtiness (Gib, that's for you) and what could be a sensitive subject for some.

Neither Jim Brass nor Annie Kramer belong to me. They belong to a bunch of people who don't appreciate them nearly as much as they should.

* * *

**Wednesday, November 23rd**

Annie awoke before Jim and carefully extricated herself from his grasp, noting he didn't stir and wondering if he'd gotten up and slipped a pill while she was asleep.

The sun was a little above the horizon as she made her way to the bathroom and when she emerged a few minutes later, he had rolled over and was now facing her.

"Come back to bed," he mumbled, eyes closed but holding the covers up invitingly.

Finding no reason not to resist his invitation, she slid in next to him, shifting until her bottom was against his groin and her back flush with his chest. He stretched his arm over her waist and brought his hand up, so that his thumb gently stroked her left nipple.

"When do you need to leave?" His voice growled in her ear, his breath warming her skin, sending a very pleasurable shiver up her spine.

"Late afternoon, early evening: it's the middle of the week so the traffic should be light. We have a lot of time." She rolled over in his grasp, facing him and seeing the grin spread across his face.

"Can we just stay like this until then?"

"You'll get no complaints from me." She couldn't remember the last time she'd spent a leisurely day in bed and after the stress of the last few days, they both needed it. Soon enough they would return to the routine of twelve hour shifts – on a good day, cold, bitter coffee, meals on the run, and a severe lack of sleep. Stealing a nap or two while snuggled against a warm body was definitely to her liking.

"I have one complaint."

She was about to kiss him, her lips hovering over his. "Oh? What's that?"

He tugged at the lace edge of her camisole. "This needs to come off."

Annie sat up and pulled the silk over her head then tossed it onto the floor. "Better?" she asked, lying down again.

Running his hand over her breasts, he said, "Definitely."

"Well, if it's a little skin on skin you like, then we should get rid of these." Her hand slipped down between them and tugged at the elastic band of his boxers.

A few seconds of fidgeting and he produced the undergarments, dangling them in mid-air before tossing them over the side. "Your turn."

She smiled against his lips. "Who says I didn't already take them off?"

His hand wandered over her bare hip. "You're good."

**oooooo**

Annie roamed his body slowly, thoroughly, exploring him in a way she never had before. The past had always been about urgency, about grasping moments and making the most of them. They never took the time to make love in the past. It was always just sex, raw and passionate but without the details. This time she was intent on paying attention to all the details; kissing every tender, sensitive spot, stroking every plane of warm, responsive flesh, concentrating on every single sensation and absorbing every soft, aroused noise he made. He was impressively hard long before she reached his groin.

Annie ran her tongue up the rigid length of his penis then closed her mouth around him. Jim groaned, a low, simmering growl, and tangled his fingers in her hair, his hips straining up at her. Annie sucked and tongued him, one hand holding him firmly at the solid base, the other wandering down between his legs, gently cupping his balls and feeling them tighten with mounting tension. Watching his reaction, feeling the twitch of his penis, hearing the low, steady groans and the quick, rapid breaths, she knew he was close. A little more suction, a few more flicks of her tongue, and he'd be there. It was cruel to take him to the brink and leave him hanging but she needed to feel him inside now. She needed to luxuriate in the sensation of him one more time—possibly the last time.

She drew off Jim quickly, making him look up in confusion. But it only took him a moment to understand.

"Come here," he said, his voice husky, as he sat up.

Annie straddled his hips and slowly bore down on him, absorbing him completely and savoring the sensation of being completely filled. She heard his sharp intake of breath, could feel the tension rippling through his body, and knew he was fighting to maintain his control. But for a brief moment they shared the profound sense of being as closely united as they could ever be and knowing that soon it would all end.

He moved first, hips moving rhythmically while nuzzling her neck, his hands running over the length of her back and over her thighs to the moist cleft where they were joined.

She leaned back, resting on her hands on either side of his thighs, giving him complete access to her breasts, allowing him to lick and suck each erect nipple while she began to move her hips, matching his steady cadence. But it wasn't enough. Putting her hands on his chest, she urged him onto his back. Picking up the pace, she concentrated hard, aligning herself better, gliding up and down in the warm, slick friction. Annie watched the intense expression cross his face, watched his eyes follow her fingers as they came up and instinctively found the hard bud of her aroused clitoris and felt the effect her actions had on him.

Jim bucked up into her, thrusting wildly and erratically, while her once steady rhythm became more frenzied and urgent. She knew he was nearing his own crest but that didn't matter to her. Nothing was important but the growing pressure within her and the desperate need to release it. She was so close that she didn't care that his hands gripped her thighs so hard that the strength of his fingers dug into her skin or that his body had gone completely taut as he choked out his climax in a loud grunt. The heavy smell of musk, the heat of damp bodies, and the distinct sensation of Jim's release triggered her orgasm, causing her to cry out reflexively as her body arched in response.

A few seconds later, when she was stretched out over his chest, panting and feeling the pound of his heart against her cheek, she fought back the urge to tell him just how much affection she had for him. Saying the words out loud would only make leaving that much more difficult. And yet, she could almost curse him for making her feel like this again. For fifteen years Jimmy Brass had been safely tucked away in a dark corner of her mind, a memory of her past life. Now he was back and despite her best efforts, she'd put her life on hold for the promise of more. Annie knew there was no one to blame but herself. She never should have given in to temptation six months ago.

Feeling the lingering, pulsating tingle between her legs, she reluctantly disengaged herself, sliding over to his side and welcoming his arms as they embraced her tightly.

He still had a slightly glazed look in his eyes and a lopsided smile on his lips as he spoke, "You know, you have a real mean streak."

"I don't hear you complaining about the outcome."

Eyes closed, he smiled. "No, definitely not complaining." He kissed the top of her head. "But you're still mean."

"Everything I know, I learned from you."

He rolled over with one deft move, hovering above her. "Oh yeah? Should I be worried?"

She reached up and folded her arms around his neck. "You should be very worried." He looked at her, his expression a mix of sadness and reverence, and then leaned down and kissed her very gently and very thoroughly.

A few minutes later a loud rumble from an empty stomach caused Annie to giggle.

"Somebody's hungry," he said, sharing her laughter. "You know, this plan works so much better when there's room service."

Annie sat up, her stomach launching into another audible tirade as the sheet fell away. "Pancakes?"

"I'll make coffee." Jim rolled off the bed and strolled into the bathroom, taking a robe off the back of the door. "I only got the one," he said, tossing it her way.

"So what?" she asked, reaching for the robe and dragging it towards her. "You just going to parade around like that?"

He stretched his arms wide, giving her a full view of him in all his male glory. "Why should today be any different?"

Tossing aside the robe, Annie crawled off the bed and joined him, unable to control her laughter. "You're right," she giggled, giving him a smack on the behind as he led the way to the kitchen. "Why should today be any different?"

**oooooo**

"You have a scar."

Sated and caffeinated, they lounged on the bed, his fingers lightly stroking her belly, his index finger tracing the five inch scar just visible above her pubic hair. If she'd thought about it, she would have distracted him but now it was too late.

"Nancy had a scar like this—from when Ellie was born, from the C-section." He looked at her, his eyes searching hers. "Annie, did you have a baby?"

There it was: the question she'd never wanted to answer. Closing her eyes in a temporary respite from his gaze, she was tempted to tell him no, it was just a stretch-mark but he was too smart for that lie. Besides, she owed him the truth. "Yes, I had a baby."

"When?"

It was an innocent question. She could tell by the look in his eye that he was simply curious, as if he'd missed out on some great celebration in her life without sending a card or flowers. "It was a long time ago—while I was in L.A."

"You never mentioned having a child."

"He died." Just saying those two words brought back a flood of painful memories. Now she really wished he would let it go but she knew better. He was a detective; he never let anything go.

"What happened?" The sadness in his eyes nearly broke her heart.

"He was born with a cyanotic heart defect, HLHS, hypoplastic left heart syndrome." The doctor's exact words were seared into her memory the moment he'd told her. "He had two heart surgeries before he was a month old and lived for fifty-seven days."

Jim put his hand on hers and gave it a squeeze. "I'm so sorry."

Annie drew a deep breath and let it out. "It's still hard to talk about." It was the truth. It had taken her several years and a lot of therapy to recover from losing her baby and while she'd always mourn him, she'd learned to cope with the loss. She hoped Jim would take her hint and let it go but she could see the wheels turning. His job was filling in the blanks and right now he was piecing it all together.

"Annie, who was the father?"

"What?" She'd run out of stall tactics and while he deserved to know, now wasn't the time, not after everything else he'd been through.

"Your baby. Who was the father?"

She glanced over at him and realized he'd already worked out the truth. He just needed her to confirm it. "Does it matter?"

"It does. Why'd you really leave?"

She rolled onto her back and exhaled. Detectives were far too inquisitive for their own good. "I told you."

"Yeah, you told me but I think there's more to it. You were pregnant when you left, weren't you?"

Annie closed her eyes then slowly opened them, resigned to telling him the truth. "Yes. The reason I left New Jersey was because I was pregnant."

Jim followed her words as if he were reading her lips. "And?"

"And yes, I was pregnant with your baby."

The look on his face told her that even though he had figured it out, hearing the actual words knocked the wind out of him. "Why didn't you tell me?" His voice was so soft, she barely heard the question.

"You were married. I knew you weren't going to leave Nancy so I had to leave before word got out. Eventually, people would put two and two together and figure it out. I moved to Los Angeles and decided to have the baby." At the sight of his raised eyebrows, she said, "Yes, I weighed my options but the more I thought about it, the more I wanted the baby. I was in my second trimester when the ultrasounds showed a heart abnormality. We didn't know the extent until a few days after he was born."

Jim looked pale and tense and at a loss for words. He was still trying to get over one of the worst weeks in his life and she'd just delivered the equivalent of a punch to his gut. She couldn't look at him, couldn't see the hurt in his eyes and keep it together. She regretted telling him, especially now, but in a way a huge burden had been lifted from her shoulders.

**oooooo**

Jim clenched his right hand, not knowing how he felt. He thought he should be angry but he didn't _feel_ angry. Sucker punched was probably more like it. And then the questions came. "Would you have told me? If he had lived, would you have told me?"

"Yes, I would have told you. But honestly, Jim, at the time all I thought about was keeping him alive. He was a tough little guy—a fighter. The only way to correct the defect was with a series of operations or a heart transplant. They put him on the list but his first operation came a week after he was born. He came through the procedure just fine. I even got to bring him home. And then about a month or so later, he started having difficulty breathing; he wouldn't nurse, so I rushed him to the emergency room. They were going to do the second operation once he reached four months but they had to go in early. He came through the surgery but never came out of NICU. He died a week later." Annie wiped away a tear from under her eye and folded herself into Jim's arms.

Stroking her hair, he cursed himself for opening up what was obviously a very painful memory for her. "I wish you would have told me."

Annie pulled away from him. "What would you have done, Jimmy? Leave Nancy? Hop on a plane and fly to L.A.? I would have resented you, if you had."

The anger in her voice took him by surprise. "Why?"

"Because then I would have known that the only reason you'd leave Nancy was for a child."

Jim knew what she was implying and he had no argument for her. She was right. He was old-fashioned and completely misguided when it came to marriage. He'd been happy with Annie and miserable with Nancy yet he stayed with his bitch of a wife because he'd had some idiotic idea that parents should stay together. He'd always wanted kids and the one he had wasn't even his. Sometimes he wondered if his picture was posted under the definition of masochist.

Jim rolled onto his side, away from Annie and towards the edge of the bed. Swinging his legs over the side, he rested his elbows on his knees and put his head in his hands. "Did he have a name?"

"Does it matter?"

"It does to me. I had a son for fifty-seven days. I want to know his name."

"Evan, after my dad. His name was Evan James."

Exhaling deeply, he rubbed his hands over his head and tried to keep all the thoughts of what might have been completely at bay.

"Jim, I knew I had to tell you but this wasn't the time. Not with everything you went through."

In the last week he'd killed a fellow officer, realized he was in love with someone he thought he'd left behind years ago, and found out he'd had a son. He needed time to process; he needed a drink.

"Honestly," he said, standing up and pulling on his shorts, "is there ever a good time to find out something like this?" Stopping at the door, he turned around. "Anything else I should know?"

"No," she said, with a solemn shake of her head.

**oooooo**

He'd been sitting alone in the living for over an hour, still trying to process everything and wishing like hell he hadn't poured out the scotch. Hearing the shower shut off, he knew Annie was getting ready to leave. That's what he would do if the roles had been reversed. But he still didn't want her to go. He'd had his moment of anger and now all he felt was numb. It was far too much for him to digest and while he was glad he knew the truth, a part of him wished she'd never told him. All he could seem to think about was what might have been. Annie had a little boy. _His _boy. He'd gotten Annie pregnant. What he'd thought to be impossible had been possible after all.

An overwhelming sense of grief and regret surged to the surface, causing tears to moisten his cheeks and his shoulders to shake with emotion. He wasn't sure if he were crying for Annie, for Daniel Bell or for the loss of a child he never knew but the outpouring felt cathartic. And after he'd finally regained control, after he'd wiped the moisture from his cheeks and blew out a cleansing breath, he realized he owed Annie an apology. He'd been selfish with his feelings, thinking only of how much the revelation had hurt him. But Annie had lost a child. He couldn't imagine, didn't want to imagine, the kind of hurt she'd had to endure. How could he possibly blame her?

He heard footsteps behind him and when he turned around, he saw the suitcase in her hand.

"I think now is probably a good time for me to go."

Jim held out his hand, stopping her. "Wait." He wasn't going to let her leave thinking she'd done something wrong or that he was angry. Ultimately, it was his fault. He'd made the decision to stay with Nancy and try to salvage their wreck of a marriage. Annie did what she had to do to protect him, to protect his career.

He took her hand and guided her to the sofa. "Annie," he wasn't sure what to say or how to say it but thankfully, she helped him out.

"I don't want to leave without knowing where we stand. Are we okay?"

Giving her hand a squeeze, he gave her a tight-lipped smile. "We're okay."

She sat down next to him and buried her head into her shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Jimmy. Please, please, forgive me."

Shaking his head, he said, "Annie, don't." Gently pushing her away, he held her at arm's length, making sure she was looking at him when he spoke. "There's absolutely nothing to forgive. It's me who should be apologizing to you. All I could think about was how it affected me. I never even thought about what you went through and I'm sorry."

She looked at him through teary eyes and gave him a weak smile. "Thank you."

He scratched the back of his head, almost embarrassed to mention it now. "You know, I never even asked you about birth control."

"I've been on the pill for almost twenty-five years."

"So how did it happen? You getting pregnant?"

"I don't know. Could have been medication I was taking at the time. Sometimes that reduces its effectiveness. Or maybe I missed a dose or I could have just fallen into that very small percentage that gets pregnant."

"Or it could have been that your birth control was no match for my swimmers."

She gave him a long, hard look before saying, "Or it could be that you're full of shit."

He laughed at her response, knowing that was indeed a fact, and then stared at the palm of his right hand during the silence that followed. His emotions were still at war and right now the feeling emerging as the victor was causing him all kinds of conflict.

He was well aware that Annie was looking at him, waiting for him to say something. And when he finally started to speak, the root cause of his conflicted emotions came rushing out.

"The first couple of years after Nancy and I got married, we tried hard to get pregnant. She went to her doctor and said it wasn't her, it was me. I couldn't get her pregnant. I made an appointment with a urologist but then the marriage started heading south and I started working more hours and I never went. We started doing a little better and then she got pregnant. It never occurred to me the baby wasn't mine, you know?

"A couple of months after Ellie was born, we had a really bad fight. I mean, if I was the neighbors, I'd have called the cops. That's when she told me. Said it was Mike O'Toole and the only reason she had sex with me was so I'd think the baby was mine. She told me I couldn't get her pregnant so she found a _real_ man who could." He looked down and licked his lips, embarrassed he was sharing this with Annie. Her hand on his back gave him the reassurance he needed to continue. "Knowing that I could make a baby," he looked up, waiting for the tightness in his throat to subside. "I wish it had been different, that our baby had lived, but to know that I fathered a child, it means a lot to me."

Her hand was on his cheek, forcing him to look at her. "Making a baby or not making a baby, it doesn't matter. You are every bit a real man."

What Annie thought was all that mattered to him so he was grateful she felt that way, but what caused him so much conflict was how he felt about himself. He couldn't deny it was a boost to his ego but Nancy had delivered so many decisive blows to his ego that he'd felt like less than a man for far too long.

Resting her hand on his knee, she sighed heavily. "I hate to say it but I really should hit the road."

He glanced at the clock. "Yeah, the casinos will be changing shifts in about an hour. You want to be away from here before that happens."

Fifteen minutes later, he was carrying her suitcase and walking out of the house, his arm around her shoulders. As they reached her car, Annie waited until he'd loaded the bag in the trunk before turning towards him and framing his face with her hands. "I want you to take care of yourself, Jim. I don't want to get another call from Warrick Brown telling me you're lying in some alley because you decided you had nothing to lose."

"I got it." He glanced down, long, dark eyelashes resting against his cheeks. Looking up, he changed the subject. "Got plans for Thanksgiving?"

"Yeah, same as yours and every other single cop with no family." Her hands rested on his shoulders. "Why do you ask?"

"Thought maybe," he shrugged, "you know, I could talk you into sticking around for another day or so." He laughed a little self-consciously. "I like having you here."

She smiled at him. "I could get used to being here."

"Well, when you decide to pack it in and leave L.A., you let me know." He slid his hands along her hips.

"You'll be the first to know." She leaned into him and gently kissed his lips.

He reciprocated, pulling her into in a tight embrace. "Thank you," he whispered, not wanting to let her go but reluctantly doing so. He held the car door open as she slid in, then leaned in and kissed her again. "Be safe."

"You too." She started the engine then slowly backed down the drive, giving him a final wave as she went. And when she reached the street, he stood somberly at the end of the driveway, watching her car until the red taillights disappeared around the corner.

Rubbing a hand across the back of his neck, he slowly walked back to the house, already dreading how empty the place would be.

**Thanksgiving Day, November 24th**

"Hey."

"_Hey, yourself. How you holding up?" _He smiled at the sound of Annie's voice.

"Not too bad. I've got a DB in a garbage bin to keep me busy."

"_Happy Thanksgiving." _

"Yeah." He gave a resigned raise of his eyebrows and sighed into the phone.

"_So, you miss me yet?"_

"The bed's too big without you."

"_Didn't Sting write that?"  
_

"Well, if the lyrics fit…" He'd heard the song on the way to work and that single line kept running through his head. "I need to run but I just wanted you to know I was thinking about you."

"_A girl can't hear that enough. Thanks for calling. I'll talk to you soon."_

Closing the phone, he slipped it into his pocket and lifted the crime scene tape. Strolling past two uniformed officers, neither one acknowledging his presence, he was relieved to see that Grissom was the CSI on call. Walking up to Gil and leaning on the retaining wall overlooking the garbage bin, he offered up a hesitant, "hey".

Grissom turned towards his friend. "I was happy to hear the review board cleared you."

Brass let out a sigh. "Well, it's been a rough time, but I'm dealing with it."

And with that Jim Brass began his exposition.

**The End**

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Thank you to everyone who stuck with the fic and especially to those who left a review. I love hearing from you!


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